


Let Me Down Slowly

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Coping, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Therapy, partners supporting partners' mental health, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:26:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 39,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21910687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: When you’ve been let down by people as much as Louis has, falling in love can be hard, but not quite as hard as letting someone in and trusting that goodbye won’t break you.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Comments: 59
Kudos: 191





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lululawrence](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lululawrence/gifts), [ishiplouis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ishiplouis/gifts).



> This is a two-request in one fic from the lovely Lulularwence and Ishiplouis!
> 
> #1: Based on the song Let Me Down Slowly by Alec Benjamin: Louis and Harry meet and fall in love. Louis' been hurt by everyone he's ever let in. There’s no way one person is going to break the trend so he keeps up boundaries and prepares himself for an inevitable goodbye, giving his all but not that one last piece for self-preservation’s sake.
> 
> #2: A love story that unfolds through a series of therapy sessions 
> 
> Thanks so much for trusting me with these prompts! Heres hoping I've done them both justice <3<3

_Preface_

_“That wanker’s late again. Explain to me how the hell someone is late to their own show when they work at the bloody venue?” Liam chuckles into his beer._

_That’s a fair question since technically Niall’s set should’ve started a whole fifteen minutes ago Harry realizes after a quick glance at his phone. Though unlike his friend, Harry’s not overly concerned by the delay. He has the cool pints he’s been sipping down ever since he and Liam arrived to thank for that. Also, the well-earned stretch of free time he’s allowing himself tonight since he hasn’t been out in ages. He hasn’t hung out with Liam and Niall in just as long. Hours of studying can do that, but Harry pushes all thoughts of school away from his mind, determined to have fun and cheer the loudest when Niall Horan finally emerges from backstage with his guitar and drags his arse to the stool and mic waiting for him._

_His friend receives the warmest of welcomes from the crowd who find his notorious tardiness endearing, and it is. Niall’s magnetism is just one of the many reasons he has accrued such a loyal fanbase over the years, and for that reason, Harry’s attention should be focused on him and the bullshit technical difficulties story he’s spinning up on stage which was really just a close footie match he couldn’t tear himself away from until he knew the final score. Everybody in the room is turned towards him and the faint melody beginning to take shape as he talks; everybody except Harry who turns at the sound of the pub’s double doors creaking open to watch the man in the denim jacket who just walked in. The man spots the single pair of eyes on him after a quick scan of the room and holds Harry’s gaze for a heartbeat; just long enough for Harry’s breath to catch in his throat before the man turns away without preamble and quietly ducks behind the bar, effectively stealing Harry’s attention for the rest of the night._

______ ______

_Part One_

_“With you, I'm a beautiful mess_ _. It's like we're standing hand and hand with all our fears up on the edge.” – We the Kings, Sad Song_

L

_September 16 th\- Present Day- Session #1_

“Louis?” the woman sitting across from him asks, pulling his attention away from the dozens of things he could and _should_ be doing with his time right now. And also, the reddened skin around the hang nail he hadn’t realized he started picking at the moment he sat down in this office.

It’s not at all the way he had imagined it would be with its big bay windows to the left, and on his right, a replica Monet of _Bridge at Argenteuil_. One of Louis’ favorites; the bridge of course not the artist. He only learned about it and dozens of other engineering marvels briefly during the semester and a half of uni he completed. He supposes seeing it here and now makes him feel slightly more comfortable. At least, as comfortable as he could hope to feel sitting across from a stranger whose job it is to pry into his life to learn every dark and sordid thing about him and his brain.

“Sorry,” Louis says, forcing himself to meet the patient grey eyes of Dr. Olson. “I, um, didn’t quite hear the question.” It’s a lie. Louis heard it, he just didn’t know how to answer it. 

“I’ll just repeat it. No worries,” Dr. Olson assures him with an easy grin, uncrossing her bare legs to sit back in her seat in a more casual position. Louis can only assume she does so with the intention of transferring some of that calm energy to him. Not a chance. “Now, Louis. What brought you here today?”

“Erm...”

It’s been a whole two and a half minutes since he was last asked that question and he still doesn’t know. He suspects Dr. Olson is aware of this. Louis suspects she knows just about everything with her notepad and multiple degrees in counseling and psychology proudly hanging on the wall behind him. However, he gives it his best shot anyway.

“I- I don’t really know,” he admits after another long pause, giving a two-shouldered shrug paired with a heavy sigh as he consciously goes back to picking at his injured thumb because even _that’s_ a lie. He knows exactly why he’s here today. It’s because he’s way more fucked up than even he realized or cared to admit and he has been for a long time. He just doesn’t know how or where to begin with explaining that to his therapist who doesn’t so much as blink when Louis suddenly blurts out multiple explanations about how confused and wrong and utterly lost he feels about everything all the time and how Harry doesn’t necessarily think he’s fucked up, but he _did_ suggest that Louis maybe try talking to someone to try and make sense of all the shit he’s feeling.

“And who is that?” Dr. Olson interjects with interest once Louis’ outburst has ended. “Harry, you said? Who is that person?”

For a moment, Louis is actually confused by her question as if he didn’t hear her correctly, unaware that he even inserted his boyfriend’s name into all of that. Especially when Louis’ so hesitant of even using the term although it’s completely accurate and Harry embodies every aspect of the word. Louis just feels weird saying it; ever weirder when _Harry’s_ the one saying it.

“Is he a relative? Or, a close friend perhaps?” she gently probes, realizing she’s hit a sensitive spot as Louis shifts his weight in his armchair while looking at her. “A boyfriend?” That last descriptor gives way to a knowing expression as guilt forces Louis to blink down at his stupidly nervous hands.

“So, _boyfriend_ ,” she correctly guesses. “For how long?”

“Don’t know. Few months,” Louis shrugs. It’s almost nine to be exact as of today, but he feels strange saying that too.

“And how are things there? Between the two of you, I mean.”

Louis’ lack of a response paired with the way he’s now inspecting the worn Adidas on his feet must be enough for her to realize it’s not going too well. His therapist seems to understand regardless, sitting across from him with eyes full of questions about him and his answers (and lack thereof), but thankfully free of judgement as she follows Louis’ gaze from his shoes to the notepad, pen, and case file in her lap.

Oddly, she slides all the items under her chair and then resumes speaking as if she never picked them up to begin with.

“Okay,” she says with another easy grin probably meant to make Louis breathe easier. He’s surprised to find that this time, it kind of works. “Alright, Louis. Let’s just chat a bit, yeah? When and how did you two meet? Let’s start there.”

****

_January 16 th\- Eight Months and Fourteen Hours Earlier_

Louis hits snooze the moment his six o’clock alarm begins to blare and yanks him out of blissful sleep. At this point, it’s his standard reflex reaction to the cruel noise that forces him out of bed each morning long before he’s ready to leave it. That seems especially true today as he starts drifting off as soon as his bedroom is plunged into silence once more.

The snooze feature on his phone only gives him an extra few minutes to stay tucked under his duvet, but somehow, it’s the best and most satisfying sleep in the entire world. It almost feels like stealing, it’s so good. Absolutely nothing compares to those eight more glorious minutes where he’s oblivious to virtually everything going on around him. During that time, there is no morning sunshine slowly creeping over the horizon and into his bedroom window, and there is no city buzzing to life down below. Louis is able to completely block out all of it.

That is, until the sound of two five-year-olds giggling somewhere down the corridor worms its way into Louis’ brain, forcing his eyes open a whole minute and a half earlier than anticipated.

And well, it was nice while it lasted he supposes.

Louis crawls out of bed and swiftly cancels his second alarm since his two youngest siblings have already gotten the job done. And, within minutes his day is started as the rest of his family stirs too and the Tomlinson household comes to life. From that moment on, the morning becomes a chaotic whirlwind of dark toast, misplaced homework, and mismatched socks that Louis swears evaporate into thin air each time he does laundry. It’s a race for Louis to get his six siblings off to school and himself off to work on time, and miraculously he pulls it off.

In under two hours everyone looks presentable, has eaten breakfast, and is out the door. Louis hugs his four eldest sisters goodbye on the pavement, all of whom are thankfully old enough and responsible enough to get themselves to school and back in one piece. Louis sticks with the little ones though, walking six blocks to their classroom with their backpacks filled with as many school things as personal things like Doris’ rabbit that she can’t sleep without at night, Ernest’s allergy medication he needs as soon as he wakes up, and a quickly scribbled note to Dan, their father, for him to please send extra socks when it’s his turn to trade off again next Friday.

“I’ll see you both next week, alright?” Louis says, crouching down to pull his brother and sister into tight hugs outside their class.

Doris and Ernest are both at an age when they’re never quite sure which day of the week it is without being told, but they’ve learned to tell when it’s a switch-off day based on the number of kisses Louis smothers them with before finally saying goodbye.

“Have a good day, loves. And be good,” he reminds them along with an extra reminder to look for their father this afternoon instead of him. “I love you.”

“Love you!” the twins shout back before skipping off to their classroom.

Louis watches from the corridor until he sees them excitedly chatting with their classmates about the new backpack someone got as a gift and what everyone has for snacks. He misses them already.

It’s a feeling he’s had to get used to over the past year. Ever since their mum died of cancer things have gotten increasingly complicated for all of them due to their large family that sort of resembles a patchwork quilt at this point. All seven of them share the same wonderful mother, but not the same dads; a fact that never really mattered until the one person who held them all together was suddenly gone. Technically, it still doesn’t matter now, but her death did pose a slight problem with the house, her new husband, and their new twins she left behind when she went.

Louis and his siblings had never been so scared in all their lives once she was gone and they realized their patchwork family could be torn apart at the seams simply because his mother fell in love with different people different times in her life. The seven of them are products of those very big moments in her life, and as such, they should all be together _because_ she isn’t here.

No one besides Louis was old enough to try and fill their mother’s shoes, so it wasn’t even a debate when Louis decided to take on that role himself. It took some compromising from all parties involved, but they came up with a system that allows for Louis and all of his siblings to live under the same roof as a family, while also allowing the youngest twins to be a family with their dad as well. Louis’ days are crazy taking care of six other people not even including himself, coordinating bi-monthly trade-offs with one stepdad, quality time visits with another, and all the hours he rakes up while working. He never feels like he has time to slow down and catch his breath, and he’s living a completely different life than he envisioned for himself at twenty-one years old, but it works. It’s Louis’ job to make sure that it does. Because, despite it all, he has managed to hold everything and everyone together. And, for right now, that’s all that matters. Well, that, and Louis making it to work on time.

He takes the long way on purpose when he has some spare minutes, hopping on the overground from St. James Park in Westminster all the way to Blackfriars just to catch a glimpse of the Millennium Bridge for the ten-thousandth time since Louis deemed it one of his favorites in the whole city. It’s one of the best parts of Louis’ day that ends much too quickly as he’s forced to stop idling and sprint for the bus over at St Paul’s. From there it’s just a quick bus ride and one transfer until he reaches his destination, hopping off the bus on Russell Square and arriving at The University of London one and a half minutes early thank you very much.

It’s quite the accomplishment for a Friday, especially since Louis usually sprints through the door right at eight-thirty or a few seconds after. His efforts today don’t go unnoticed as he slips into the Student Registry Office and behind the assistants’ desk he shares with a grey-haired woman who’s always happy to see him no matter his promptness or lack thereof.

“Well this is a surprise,” Holly smirks against the lid of her coffee cup as Louis sits down, graciously sliding a cup with his name on it over in front of him.

“ _Bless you_ ,” Louis sighs as he ignores the university emails in his inbox and the office phone already ringing off the hook to take his first blissful sip. “What would I do without you?” he asks of the woman who has saved him on more than one occasion. The first instance being the day Louis realized he couldn’t keep up his courses and take care of his siblings all at once. He came into the Student Registry Office that day and met with Holly to officially withdraw from the university, suddenly finding himself in the market for a job. Luckily, his unemployment only lasted about two minutes before Holly was giving him a much-needed heads up about the part-time assistant job that had come available just that morning.

“Well someone’s got to look after you from time to time. I don’t mind that being me,” she chuckles in answer as she pulls two blueberry muffins from her bag and slides one of those across the desk as well.

It’s delicious and greatly appreciated because Louis only managed to get in a couple of bites of toast this morning while wrangling everyone out the door. He suspects Holly knows he’s a frazzled mess most days and that’s why she often plies him with free pastries and caffeine. He also suspects that he reminds Holly a lot of her two sons whom she talks about daily, mostly about how much she misses them all the way in California where they work.

“So... you gonna answer that or-?” Holly inquires as Louis’ phone continues ringing in the middle of him humming appreciatively into his breakfast, snorting a laugh when Louis finally caves and greets the caller through a mouthful of perfectly baked blueberry.

Unfortunately, Louis’ doesn’t get to sit around all day making Holly laugh with how ridiculous he is. His shift ends a quarter after twelve, giving him just enough time to make it over to South End Restaurant for his second job as a lunch cook which sucks most days and doesn’t pay nearly as well as the university does, but it has its perks. The main one being all the surplus food from breakfast and dinner the night before that gets stashed in the freezer for anyone to claim. Thanks to South End, Louis can get away with feeding everyone in his family most days of the week without having to cook a single thing. That alone is worth the collage of singe marks he has accumulated on his fingers and hands over the past year.

Thankfully, Louis only has to battle with industrial-sized kitchen appliances for a few hours before he’s able to ditch his apron. When it’s his week with the twins, on Fridays he’s out of the restaurant and back at their school by four-thirty to pick them up from their after-school music class, however it’s currently Dan’s week so Louis heads home instead to put away all the sausage, bacon, lasagna, and garlic bread he so kindly took off his manager’s hands.

After dropping off the food, Louis sets out again to run a few errands that are much easier to complete with _out_ two five-year-olds in tow, like picking up the refill for Ernest’s allergy medication and replenishing the ever-dwindling coffee/tea stash in the pantry. He’s back home in an hour and already starting to heat up a lasagna dinner in anticipation of the older girls making it home too. They’re taking longer than usual, even for a Friday when they usually stop off to chat with friends, so Louis stops plating up food to investigate. He stops altogether after a quick glance at the family calendar hanging on the fridge reminds him that his sisters are with their dad tonight for some music festival thing in Hyde Park they’ve been looking forward to all month.

“ _Fuck me_ ,” Louis sighs to himself even though he’s glad to know his sisters are out having fun and are safe. He gets to work replacing all the food he laid out for nobody at all, but he keeps out one plate for himself as well as a big slice of South End’s famous chocolate cake from the back of the fridge.

He takes it to the living room along with a glass of wine he thinks he more than deserves after the week’s craziness. He’s got the house to himself which rarely ever happens, so it feels a little strange when he takes a seat on their old sofa, turns on the t.v., and picks a movie of his choice for the first time in what feels like ages.

Usually, Louis doesn’t have free time to waste between dinner for seven, clean up, homework, getting everybody in bed at a decent hour, and making sure nobody kills anybody else or burns down the house in the meantime. Staying still and having virtually nothing to do is difficult for Louis these days; a point proven not even half an hour into Gladiator when he decides his unexpected free time would be much better spent getting a head start on the mountain of laundry he usually saves for Saturday afternoons.

Laundry is quiet, mindless work that Louis doesn’t usually mind, however tonight it’s much too quiet. Nobody is bickering over the temperature or the remote. There’s no Daisy singing in her bedroom, Doris and Ernest running through the house, Lottie experimenting with makeup in the rooms that have the best light, or even their mum chuckling at dumb late-night shows with her hair tied up and a warm cup of tea in her hands the way she used to. Tonight, there’s just Louis and he misses them; all of them. Which is why he isn’t at all bothered by the text he receives around eight o’clock asking if he’s free to pick up a shift down at Darkhorse Pub, his unofficial third job left over from his brief stint in uni; a job that only needs Louis in the event of someone not coming in or the bar being more packed than usual due to a show. In tonight’s case, it seems to be both instances since Niall has the evening off to trade his bartending skills for his guitar and singing skills. His shows always bring a big crowd because he somehow knows absolutely everyone. And, also because he’s an amazing performer as well.

With so much going on this week, Louis completely forgot his friend and co-worker was playing. These days, Louis forgets a lot of things like that due to his mind being on other things, but it would be nice to be able to hear him play. A kid-less night is the perfect night for it, and the number of tips Louis will bring in serving drinks to Niall’s legion of faithful supporters on a Friday night wouldn’t be so bad either. Louis probably wouldn’t even have to flirt much to earn enough to get a bill or two paid for the month. It would be the easiest money he has made all week, and so, with very little self-convincing, Louis ditches the laundry he was working on and lets the pub manager know he’s on his way. 

The breeze makes it feel much colder than it really is on his way to Darkhorse. He shoves his hands into the pockets of his denim jacket, thankful that this winter has been particularly mild so he hasn’t had to bundle up each time he leaves the house or constantly worry that Ernest or Doris will lose a scarf or mitten and come home with frostbite.

It’s just a fifteen-minute walk to Wilton Street and the pub that’s so packed with people that he can hear them from outside. From what Louis can tell, Niall has yet to start playing but the crowd already sounds tipsy as they laugh at something the headliner says. Tipsy is good. It generally means Louis is walking into a chill, stress-free environment where people are all too happy to shove their spare cash into a tip jar.

Just as suspected, every booth, table, and corner of the pub is full when Louis slips in through the double doors just as the crowd starts to quiet. Everyone’s focused on the stage at the back of the room where Niall is picking out the melody for his first song. Louis came in as quietly as possible, yet he still manages to catch the attention of one man sitting just a few yards away with the warmest green eyes he’s ever seen.

They’ve never met and Louis is certain of this. And yet, the man is looking at Louis as if they know one another, or as if maybe they should. It makes Louis feel like he’s the one under the spotlight tonight. It’s a bizarre and uncomfortable sort of feeling that drives Louis to quickly turn away from the man and continue towards the bar where he belongs, but it doesn’t work. Out of sight apparently isn’t out of mind because Louis can still sense a pair of eyes on him as Niall begins to sing, somehow, completely captivating the man with the green eyes for the rest of the night, simply by walking into the room.

****

When Louis finishes giving Dr. Olson the highlights from the day he and Harry met, her grin is still in place, but her eyebrows are raised a couple of centimeters from their usual place. It could be a sign of interest, however Louis’ leaning more towards astonishment or shock at something he’s said but didn’t mean to. It’s possible that with everything Louis just told his therapist, she doesn’t know where to even begin with him.

“Right then,” she nods a few times before clearing her throat. “Now, I just want to make sure I’ve got everything... You work three jobs. Often in a single day.”

“Yeah. Sometimes,” Louis shrugs. “Not always the pub though. Most nights I’m needed at home.”

“By your younger siblings _all_ under your care,” she segues suddenly making Louis feel a lot less chatty. “There are six of them; the youngest, around five, and the eldest, around sixteen, right?”

“...Yes. That’s right,” Louis answers after a while, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

“And do you find that challenging being so young yourself?”

Louis isn’t sure what the hell that has to do with anything. They’re here to talk about him and his relationship with his boyfriend that’s going to shit, _not_ his family. He only included them in the ‘chat’ they’re having because she asked _how_ he and Harry met, and under normal circumstances, they probably wouldn’t have. That night the stars just happened to align to put them both in that pub but that’s completely separate from his responsibilities at home.

“I take good care of my family,” Louis assures Dr. Olson before she jumps to more conclusions that imply that he doesn’t. “Sometimes I have to work a lot to make sure they have everything they need, and I promise you, they _do_.”

This is exactly why Louis didn’t want to do this when Harry suggested it. First, he’s telling a complete stranger intimate details about his life; next, social services are at his fucking door deeming him unfit, stripping him of partial custody, and splitting them all up.

“Of course, Louis, but you really don’t have to go. Please stay. For the rest of the session?” Dr. Olson asks when Louis storms towards the door. “It sounds like you’re doing an amazing job taking care of everybody, Louis. And, no one could doubt how much you care for and love your siblings. I truly apologize. I didn’t mean to imply that you _can’t_ do it all. I just meant it seems like a lot to balance. It sounds like it has been a tough couple of years for you without your mum.”

Tough isn’t the word Louis would use to describe how it has felt without his mother around. Painful. Empty. Excruciating. Unbearable. Those are better words.

And because her absence still feels that way for him and those feelings show no sign of going anywhere any time soon, slowly, Louis deflates and settles back down in his seat.

“I- I guess you’re right. It hasn’t been easy,” he admits to his therapist without all the dramatics this time. “Some days are worse than others.”

“I can imagine,” Dr. Olson nods understandably. “And we’ll get to that... But, maybe someone along the way has made things feel slightly better? Possibly Harry?”

 _Definitely_ Harry.

Louis wishes he could say that to Dr. Olson without his chest tightening. He wishes he could say that to _Harry_ ; that there are times Louis feels so insanely good and happy that he can’t stop thinking how lucky he is just having Harry in his life. But then, there are other times he feels so anxious and fearful about having someone so wonderful that it scares the hell out of him. Being with Harry is like his heart being in a continuous weightless free fall while being stripped bare at the same time. It’s both exhilarating and awful; a deliriously blissful and terrible feeling that Louis has never experienced before in his entire life, which means it could only be one thing.

Maybe if Louis sits here in Dr. Olson’s office long enough, he’ll finally be able to say the terrifying word aloud. God knows Harry more than deserves to hear it.

“Let’s get back to the two of you, shall we?” Dr. Olson suggests when Louis is looking more comfortable again. “You said you noticed each other pretty quickly.”

“Yeah. I guess we did,” Louis grins to himself remembering how they kept watching each other; Harry because he was getting up the nerve to come over, Louis because he was skeptical someone who was such an obvious lightweight could walk a straight line.

“And what was that like? I’m assuming you liked each other right away and things just sort of clicked and snowballed from there?” she asks making Louis smile even harder because the answer to that is no. Not exactly.

****

Drink orders had been relatively slow during the first half of Niall’s set, however that quickly changed during intermission when virtually everyone in the pub decided they need more alcohol. _Or_ , that they want to treat the musician to a pint. The amount of people now crowding around the bar is insane, all of them packed in trying to lock eyes with either Louis or one of the other two bartenders taking orders and filling them as fast as possible. It’s like being caught in a whirlwind, but that’s exactly why Louis agreed to come down because for every pint he pours and for every smile he flashes, that’s another hefty wad of cash in his tip jar. And, with results like that, he can’t complain.

By the time Niall finally wanders back to the stage and the pub lights begin to flicker signaling the end of the break, there’s a huge decrease in the number of people vying for his attention. With the help of Louis’ coworkers, Lydia and Stan, most everyone is back at their seats waiting for the show to start back up with a fresh drink in their hand. Well, everyone except the man standing off to the side who has been contemplating getting a new drink for the past fifteen minutes, but has yet to actually venture the rest of the way over to the bar to get one. It’s the same person who has been stealing glances at the bar all night, and apparently, Louis isn’t the only one who has noticed him.

“You know, I’d venture to say it’s probably not the _menu_ he’s been admiring all this time,” Stan smirks when they both end up at the beer taps along the back of the bar.

Louis fondly rolls his eyes at his co-worker as he fills the two pint glasses he’s holding. He hands them off to the two women who just paid for them while Stan does the same with the glasses he’s just filled, but afterwards, he’s still watching Louis with a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“What are you smirking about?” Louis asks, immediately regretting it when his co-worker’s smile doubles in size.

“Oh, nothing...” he claims. Lies.

“It’s clearly something.”

“...Just the man who’s been working up the nerve to talk to you since you got here. No big deal.”

Louis rolls his eyes again, this time catching the attention of his other, much less annoying co-worker coming to fill up a few pint glasses of her own.

“You two chatting about your future hubby over there pretending to read the menu while the queue dies down? _Terrible_ actor, but _very_ cute dimples, so I approve,” Lydia smirks just as mischievously as her boyfriend when he drops a conspiratorial kiss to her jaw. “I say definitely go for it.”

“Dear God. You too?” Louis mutters, pushing past the couple to take another order and fill it. This time it’s tequila, which both Lydia and Stan are standing right in front of.

Each time Louis tries to reach for a bottle, he’s blocked by the impenetrable united front before him with their dumb grins aimed right at him. “You know there’s literally nothing to even ‘ _go_ ’ for, right?” he sighs at his friends. “ _One_ , he’s one-hundred percent here with one of the people from his table...” Probably the smiley one with all the tattoos who’s close friends with Niall. Leo? Or maybe Liam? Something like that. “And, _two_ , you’re both imagining shit because he’s not even looking at me.”

That last statement is proven wrong the moment Louis glances over his shoulder to catch a pair of green eyes dart up to the drink menu as if they’ve been there the whole time rather than on Louis’ face. That’s also around the same time Louis notices Leo/Liam in the middle of flirtatiously exchanging numbers with a girl who has ventured over to his table in the green-eyed man’s absence.

Louis turns to face his friends again and instantly wants to smack the smug expressions off their faces. Particularly Stan’s when he inquires with an innocent, “So, you were incorrectly saying?”

“Fuck off,” Louis mutters, turning back to his queue of customers to find them all returned to their seats as the pub lights dim around them and Niall reclaims his spot on stage.

“Oh, with _pleasure_ , my friend,” Stan smirks at him as the green-eyed man notices he’s the last man standing. Miraculously, he begins moving from the spot he was rooted to, making a b-line straight for Louis. “Kay, bye now! Be nice and don’t do anything in the toilets that we wouldn’t!”

“Yeah, we want to hear _everything_ afterwards!” Lydia beams as if it’s completely normal the way she and Stan, two-thirds of the bartending team, are hurrying _away_ from the bar.

“ _Oi! You two get back here!”_ Louis hisses at them over the sound of Niall’s next song starting up. His friends ignore him of course, the two of them edging up to the crowd and squeezing in amongst the pub guests to give Niall’s cover of Skinny Love the quiet and respect it deserves.

Louis would’ve joined them had they not jumped ship and left him to fend for himself with some random person they don’t know any more than Louis does. And, there’s not even going to be any gossip to _tell_ besides whether this man prefers dark or light beer, Louis thinks to himself just as the man makes it to the bar and Louis notices his eyes are even richer and brighter up close.

He really is cute like Lydia said; gorgeous really, and that’s without even taking his nervous little grin into consideration. His dimples _are_ fucking amazing.

“Hi.” He says just under the volume of the music but Louis still hears it, much deeper and softer than he expected.

“H-Hello,” Louis says back, tacking on a kind grin after a long pause where Louis realizes he’s practically gawking at him. “Er- So! What are you drinking? What can I get for you?”

“Er- _Oh_. Um... I, uh. Honestly, I have no fucking clue,” the man chuckles, his brow furrowing up at the menu he clearly hasn’t read a word of this whole time. He still isn’t, which is clear when he stops pretending to pick a drink to grin at Louis across the bar. “Um, what would you suggest?”

What would _he_ suggest?

Louis knows this game and how to play it all too well. And in his experience, when he plays along, the payoff is usually well worth his time and effort. Sometimes, it pays so well his tip jar starts overflowing. Not that it’s some huge imposition bantering with someone as freakishly handsome as this man.

“Well,” Louis smirks back. “I’d say that mostly depends on what _you_ like. Tell me what you’re in the mood for,” he says leaned in so close to the man’s ear that he can smell his shampoo. When he pulls back, he can see the man swallowing hard, the apples of his cheeks changing color under the dimmed lights.

He’s interested alright. However, strangely, Louis’ cheeky request is met with a silence that he has a hard time interpreting.

Louis’ blatant fail-proof flirting doesn’t seem to be working here making Louis question if perhaps he, Stan, and Lydia all read this situation wrong. Perhaps this man wasn’t biding his time to chat him up. Maybe he really did have difficulty deciding what to order, and now, Louis has involved him in an interaction he didn’t even want; the very same thing that Louis hates for drunk people to do to him.

“I’m sorry,” Louis apologizes, uncomfortably clearing his throat before pouring the man some of the best beer they have. “For you. On the house,” he offers in truce. “Enjoy the rest of the show,” he tells the man, however his gesture of atonement and his well-wishes are met with a look of disappointment rather than vindication as the man blinks down at his fresh pint like it has offended him somehow.

“ _Shit_ , you hate dark,” Louis sighs, realizing he should have gone with something like a Heineken or Stella instead. “Fuck. I’m usually so good at guessing that sort of thing,” he mutters mostly to himself, but before he can turn away to fix his mistake, he’s stopped by the man finally speaking up.

“No, don’t!” he blurts over the music making a few audience members, Stan, Lydia, and even Niall himself glance in their direction. Louis assures everyone there’s nothing wrong with a discreet shake of his head while the man turns and mouths a silent apology at the people he disturbed. He faces the bar again to apologize to Louis too, but in a much softer voice than the last time he spoke.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to shout at you,” he explains with his cheeks even brighter than before. “I _do_ like dark beer. And light too, I suppose,” he tacks on after giving it some thought. “I guess I don’t really have a preference, so technically, you guessed right.” 

It’s great to know Louis hasn’t suddenly lost his talent for bartending. It’s also interesting that this random man just took the time to assure him of that and is now looking at Louis with the same intensity as when Louis arrived. Once again, he feels overly warm and uneasy feeling something stirring in his stomach that he’d rather not.

“ _Right_ ,” Louis nods at the man’s explanation “...Well, have a nice night!” Louis grins. And just when he thought the man has finished rambling about alcohol.

“W-Well, honestly, I didn’t really come up here because I wanted another drink...” he admits to keep Louis there. “I mean, I appreciate the free beer and I know you’re on the clock, but... I kind of just wanted to talk to you?” Perhaps the man senses Louis’ utter confusion on the matter so that’s why he breathes a laugh to himself. “Jesus. Sorry again. Was that weird? God, this is going well, isn’t it?”

It’s something alright.

Waiting behind a twenty-minute queue just to chit-chat is something people don’t usually do. Louis was just hoping his man would be a generous tipper. He assumes any chances of that happening are now slim. Louis pulled out his big money-maker smile and everything, but he’s not too slighted.

“It’s cool. Have a good night.” Louis gives an unbothered shrug in answer, mostly relieved to not have to actively flirt now that there’s no point. He gets back to work, getting a head start on the dirty dishes while everyone in the room is still focused on Niall. Everyone except the man now watching Louis with amusement, still holding onto his on-the-house pint that he has yet to even taste.

“Yes? May I help you?” Louis raises an eyebrow at the customer who clearly has no intention of heading back to his seat.

“Hi. I’m Harry,” he smiles, his dimples drawing most of Louis’ attention because they’re so damn deep and the cut of his jaw is so damn perfect. “Now, you’re supposed to tell me your name is...”

“ _Busy_ ,” Louis quips, blinking back when his response is answered with Harry abandoning his free pint to reach across the bar and offer Louis one of his large, outstretched hands. Louis should find his persistence obnoxious, but somehow it just comes off endearing.

For a long time, they’re caught in the middle of a stare-off that somehow ends with Louis fondly rolling his eyes and Harry grinning like an idiot as Louis meets him halfway.

“I’m Louis, and I’m still extremely busy,” he reveals to his new acquaintance’s amusement as he scans the entire bar area that’s empty besides the two of them and a few dirty glasses that Louis could take care of any time really. Louis assumes Harry is aware of this fact otherwise he wouldn’t still be standing here small-talking rather than returning to his friends to enjoy the show he came here to see.

It’s kind of flattering Louis decides after a while of trying not to smile at the idiot still holding his hand. Eventually, they let go, the two of them caught in another stare-off as _Skinny Love_ ends and Niall transitions to a more upbeat song.

“You smoke?” Louis asks him over the opening chords of a Niall Horan original.

It takes Harry a couple of seconds to even realize Louis is talking to him, giving a quick nod in answer once he does. “Er- Sure. Yeah, I smoke.”

That’s something Louis wouldn’t have pegged him for. Not that Harry’s nicotine habit or lack of one actually matters in this scenario. Not if this is going the way Louis assumes. _Hopes_.

It’s been fucking ages since Louis has had any type of hookup, let alone a seedy one in a pub, but he’s game if Harry is _._

“Well, I’m taking a break in ten,” Louis shrugs, rolling his eyes when Harry nods at this new information before his brows crinkle in confusion. “Meaning, I wouldn’t exactly mind some company,” he clarifies with a raise of his eyebrows that finally registers in Harry’s brain as an invite.

“O-Oh. _Oh_ , okay. Nice,” Harry beams. “Good. Great... _cool_.”

The last time Louis hung out with anyone who’d deem a smoke break _cool_ he was thirteen years old and practically hacked up both lungs trying to be. 

Coincidentally, about thirteen minutes later Louis finds himself in a similar situation, except this time his lungs ache due to him cackling after Harry takes one drag off a cigarette and nearly chokes to death.

 _“You fucking liar!”_ Louis wheezes as he watches Harry try to beat out the very tiny amount of smoke he actually inhaled from his chest.

“I didn’t think it’d be that bad!” he croaks in defense only making Louis laugh more. Not that Harry seems to mind. Actually, he seems quite pleased seeing Louis smile at his expense.

“Well, it’s not that bad when you’ve _actually_ smoked before,” Louis snorts.

Harry only takes mild offence to that, mimicking the couple of smooth drags that Louis takes which results in a much less painful-sounding cough.

“Well, I never really tried it because doctors always said it’s not good for you,” he grimaces, as if the smoke billowing into his face is laced with poison.

“Well, lots of things aren’t necessarily _good_ for you,” Louis counters. “And anyway, what do doctors know? Half the time they’re just as uncertain as everybody else.” Louis would know. So would his mother if she was still here like her doctors all thought she’d be. He tries not to think much about that though; about things that don’t actually matter.

When Louis glances over at Harry again he notices Harry watching him curiously.

“Not a fan of doctors,” Harry notes before another drag resulting in another deep wince. “So... is this a bad time to mention I’m in med school?” Harry jokes, his green eyes sparkling with mirth and then laughter when Louis snatches Harry’s cigarette from between his fingers and stubs it out on the brick wall.

“You’re studying to become a bloody doctor and you’re _smoking_? What the hell’s wrong with you? This shit’s awful for you.” A warning which apparently carries little weight coming from someone carefully sliding his reclaimed cigarette back into its box for safe keeping.

“Well, if it’s so awful then why do you do it?” Harry snorts.

Because Louis needs something to keep him sane. Playing parental figure for six people who depend on him means his nerves are shot to hell most days, but he doesn’t expect Harry to know that. He also doesn’t intend to tell him.

“This isn’t about _me_ ,” Louis quips after a while. “You’re the one who can’t become a doctor and save people’s lives if you’re _dead_.”

“Well, first of all, you hate doctors, remember? And second, it was _one_ cigarette. _Barely_ ,” Harry chuckles. “And anyway, I think it was well worth it.”

“What was?” Louis scoffs. “Risking premature death?”

“No,” Harry grins. “Getting to talk to _you_.”

Louis drops his gaze to the pavement when he feels his stomach swoop and his chest tighten uncomfortably. He’s got half a cigarette left but the pair of hopeful green eyes locked on the side of Louis’ face make it hard for him to focus on finishing it. Or, pretend Harry isn’t waiting for him to say something similar back.

“I should get back,” he suddenly decides, stubbing the lit end of his cigarette into the brick wall. “Niall’s set’s going to end soon. I’m sure Stan and Lydia will be looking for me.” They most definitely won’t be, but Louis needs an excuse that won’t make it seem like he’s running for the hills.

“Well, I know you’ve got to go but, I’d like to do this again sometime,” Harry tells him. “You know, with _out_ all the coughing if you’re interested?”

His bright smile makes Louis want to take him up on the offer.

Louis actually wouldn’t mind seeing more of him since they spent so much time laughing that they didn’t even kiss. Usually, the men who claim to just want to talk are full of shit, but Harry genuinely did. Louis kind of likes that about him.

“It was nice meeting you, Harry,” Louis says, and he means it as he leans in to press a kiss to his lips. It’s so quick that Harry hardly has time to register the pair of lips on his before they’re gone, leaving a beautifully dopey and dimpled smile in their wake.

“That was nice,” he chuckles, realizing it was also goodbye when he tries in vain for kiss number two.

It _was_ nice. But, the reality is it also isn’t going anywhere. That sort of thing simply isn’t on Louis’ massive to-do list. And then there’s the fact that in the end, this sort of thing never works anyway, so really, there’s no point. It’s best they end right here where they never really started.

“It was nice meeting you,” Louis says again, watching Harry’s expression take on a shade of disappointment, but also, noticing the soft sigh of acceptance Harry lets out as Louis leaves him to head back inside alone.

Niall’s set runs overtime which was to be expected since it started a bit late too, but that doesn’t stop Louis’ mind from going over that moment again and again for some reason.

The crowds stick around until the very end of Niall’s show causing a massive flood of people to either come up to the bar to close out their tabs for the night or head out of the double doors. Despite the stampede and the noise, Louis keeps an eye out for Harry who hasn’t paid much attention to Louis or the bar area ever since he was turned down flat.

Louis can’t really blame him there. And Louis really has no grounds for feeling weirdly jealous of the dark-haired man who’s been drunkenly chatting Harry up since he returned to his table looking a bit dejected. Louis has no grounds to feel anything at all about Harry since he rejected him; a decision Louis thinks he now kind of regrets as he watches Harry politely slink away from his new admirer to locate his friends.

“Jesus, mate. Stare harder, I dare you,” Stan says next to Louis’ ear, startling him back to wiping down the bartop.

“What? I’m not _staring_ at anything. I’m _working_ ,” Louis lies, and poorly at that if Stan and Lydia’s flat faces are any indication.

They both follow Louis’ line of sight and find Harry at the end of it.

“So... you never did say what happened when you two disappeared,” Lydia comments for the third time.

“I told you nothing happened,” Louis admits.

“Nothing sure seems like something to me,” Stan mutters when he catches Louis’ eyes roving the crowd and settling on the person leaving the pub along with everyone else. “You obviously like him.”

“Yeah, so go walk over there and give him your number,” Lydia orders him. “Right now, Louis Tomlinson. Before he leaves and you never see each other again,” she says with a scary amount of authority that reminds Louis of his mother when she was cross.

“What the hell are you talking about? Niall will have other shows,” Louis points out with a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah, and when he does, I’m sure your boy’s going to come watch,” Stan agrees. “With someone _else,_ genius _.”_ Louis hadn’t thought of that, and now that he has, he realizes he doesn’t really like the feeling that comes with it _._ He assumes it’s visible on his face when Stan rolls his eyes. _“Go._ What the hell are you still doing back here?”

That’s a good question that Louis doesn’t quite know the answer to as Harry’s quick steps towards the exit and his co-worker’s stern looks spur him into action.

“Er- I need something to write with.” No sooner than Louis makes the request does Lydia shove an abandoned drink receipt and pen into his hand with an impatient raise of her eyebrows. “Alright, alright. _Jesus_ ,” he scoffs as he scribbles down his number as legibly as possible with the dating police watching him.

He has to run once he’s finished writing it, just making it across the room to Harry before he follows his friends out onto the street.

“Harry!” he calls out to stop him from leaving, realizing a bit too late that besides that, he didn’t come up with anything more to say to justify why he’s currently holding onto Harry’s arm. Justifying his sudden reappearance doesn’t get any easier once he and Harry are looking right at one another. 

“ _Louis_? Um, I thought you said that last drink was on the house. Shit. I’m sorry,” Harry apologizes.

“No, no, it _was_ on the house. You don’t owe me anything,” Louis quickly explains before Harry can successfully dig some cash out of his back pocket.

It only makes creases form between Harry’s eyebrows as he tries to work out why exactly Louis stopped him. And probably why Louis’ hand is still curled around his bicep. Louis drops it immediately, suddenly a bit nervous with Harry’s full attention on him.

“Er- You forgot- No. _I._ I forgot something,” he says handing Harry the crinkled receipt detailing someone else’s excessive alcohol consumption for the evening. Harry frowns at for several seconds until he flips it over to find the string of numbers Louis wrote so fast they started going lopsided.

Harry’s expression is disbelieving at first, and then his grin is instantaneous as his gaze moves from the receipt, to Louis.

“And you’re sure a chicken didn’t write this? These are actual numbers, right?” he teases, making Louis snort.

“Don’t know. Why don’t you try them one day and find out.”

From the looks of it Harry intends to do that one day very soon, glancing at the number one more time before folding the paper into a neat little rectangle and tucking it safely into his back pocket.

They’re back to watching each other in silence again, completely ignoring Louis’ coworkers watching from the bar and Harry’s friends heckling him to stop flirting and get his arse outside.

“I’m curious,” Harry begins quietly. “What made you change your mind?”

This time Louis doesn’t have any lines or cheeky responses. Somehow, he just knows letting Harry walk away would be a mistake.

****

When Louis finishes his retelling of that first night, Dr. Olson’s brow furrows a bit as if she’s working out a bit of tricky algebra rather than processing and deciphering everything Louis just said.

“So, initially, you _were_ interested in seeing Harry again.”

It’s not so much a question as an observation but Louis answers anyway. “Yes. I was.”

“But, you told him you weren’t,” she notes going as far as reaching for her notebook under her seat and jotting it down like it’s the most interesting and important observation from the near hour they’ve spent together. “Why do you think you did that?”

Louis has no idea as he mentally goes through the night again and only comes up with positive memories.

“I- I honestly can’t tell you why,” he shrugs. “He was nice enough that night. Funny enough. I liked him, and I guess I _wanted_ to say yes right away...” There were virtually no signs to make Louis say no.

“And yet, you ran.”

“Well, I _tried_ to.” He wanted to. “Look, I don’t know. I can’t really explain it. I just felt like... like letting him in was a bad idea somehow.” And Louis couldn’t have been more wrong because Harry is incredible and until recently, things between them have been fantastic.

“You were afraid to trust him,” Dr. Olson says knowingly even though it makes zero fucking sense. Of course he trusts his fucking boyfriend.

“Pretty sure that’s _not_ it. Harry hadn’t even done anything to make me not trust him,” Louis counters, silently swallowing down his next argument for how wrong she is when she responds with ‘ _No, but someone did’_.

That sentence plays on a loop in Louis’ brain from the moment he steps out of Dr. Olson’s office. It’s getting late, but he decides to take the long way home just so he can fucking think without someone sitting across from him analyzing every word he says. And incorrectly at that. She doesn’t even know him. All the more reason for Louis to never fucking go back.

He ends up at the Millennium Bridge as per usual, resisting the urge to reach for the emergency cigarette hidden in his wallet although he stopped smoking nearly six months ago. Truthfully, he doesn’t even want to start back up. For one, it’s an expensive fucking habit and his money is much better spent elsewhere; and two, Louis’ loved ones were all so proud of him when he decided to quit. Louis was proud of himself too. He still is, but he’s just not convinced this whole therapy thing is going to work. In fact, he’s pretty damn certain it won’t considering he’s had about an hour with his therapist so far and somehow he left her office feeling even more annoyed and frustrated than he was before he got there. It’s like she didn’t even hear ninety-nine percent of what he told her and then started harping on about Louis’ siblings and fucking _trust_. As if Louis could ever be with someone for close to a year without trusting them. It’s the most ridiculous thing he’s ever heard.

It takes a while, but eventually, Louis talks himself down from his anger-fueled nicotine ledge and starts walking toward Grange Street where he belongs this late in the evening. Once there, he walks up the narrow drive of the old brick house with the bright blue window boxes that his mother painted. It’s much too cold for flowers at the moment so the boxes are empty, but even so, just seeing them each time he comes home makes Louis’ heart warm.

When he walks through the front door, the first thing he notices is how unusually quiet it is. Typically, his siblings are ready to riot after going this long without dinner, but the scent of home cooked spaghetti in the air means crisis was averted in his absence. Depending on which of his siblings did the cooking, the sauce may contain half a canister of salt and the noodles might be hard enough to be hazardous, but it makes Louis smile to know they tried. 

As Louis makes his way further into the house, he realizes more than just dinner has been checked off his to-do list this evening.

There are no longer any shoes, backpacks, or toys lying around, the orange juice someone spilled on the sofa arm two days ago has been scrubbed clean, and the youngest twins’ homework is complete. It’s like somebody waved a magic wand to make Louis’ day less hectic; somebody who makes Louis’ heart lurch just from the sight of him when Louis steps into the spotless kitchen he has been meaning to tidy up for days but just hasn’t had the time.

Louis should’ve known Harry was here the moment he arrived due to the car parked at the end of the drive, but Louis was so distracted with his own thoughts that he hardly noticed. He definitely notices his boyfriend’s presence now where he’s sitting in what has become his favorite spot, at the kitchen table typing away on his laptop.

Harry beams over the edge of it when he notices someone else has joined him in the room; that _Louis_ has joined him in the room, but he hesitates hopping up from his seat to greet Louis as he normally would.

It fucking stings because this is always the moment they look forward to the most.

This should be the moment that all the waiting from the long day ends and they march straight for one another regardless of whoever else is in the room. This is where they kiss hello as if it has been years since they’ve seen each other rather than just hours since they woke up curled around one another. This is the moment they should come home in every aspect of the word, but, things are just so strange between them right now that neither of them moves.

It’s been days since they last saw each other; _five_ to be exact, and yet it feels like it’s been a lifetime after getting used to seeing one another almost every day for the better part of a year.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry says eventually after a few seconds where he seemed to be grappling with similar emotions from how completely wrong this all feels.

Louis almost feels short of breath from how fast his thoughts are now racing; how much he wishes he could just hit rewind to when things weren’t so fucked up. “H-Hey,” he manages, still clearly in shock that Harry is even here. After the fight they had, if their situations were reversed, Louis certainty wouldn’t be. “Y-You came over...” It’s a dumb observation that Louis regrets making almost as much as what he blurts out next. “And, you cooked. Wow.”

Harry gives an easy shrug as if driving all the way over from his campus, making a meal for six, cleaning the house, and subjecting himself to at least half an hour of spelling homework with two school-tired five-year-olds is no big deal.

“It’s just pasta,” he shrugs again as if that makes it mean less. “Didn’t take me too long and there’s plenty left in case you’re hungry. I just- I know you don’t work at the restaurant over the weekend which means you usually have to cook on Mondays, and Stan mentioned that you might have had something personal to do today, meaning you’d be home later than usual, so I just- I wanted to help out.”

There’s a long pause between them after Harry’s rush of an explanation that neither of them quite know what to do with. Louis especially hates the part of this that they’re actively not saying; how every bit of this weirdness between them is his own fucking fault.

 _‘Something personal to do’_. It’s just code for the therapy Harry suggested after Louis exploded at him in the middle of the pavement. What makes Louis feel even worse is that Harry didn’t even do anything to deserve it. Not really. It was a huge misunderstanding, but this time, sorry wasn’t enough to fix it. Louis’ not sure that him talking to someone about his problems is going to do the trick either, but Harry _is_ here right now and Louis _is_ trying like he promised, so that’s got to be worth something.

Neither of them says anything for so long that the air feels even thicker than before. So much so that eventually Harry grabs his backpack from the floor and begins packing up his things to escape.

Louis’ not too sure where they stand with their relationship or with each other at the moment, but what he does know is that he doesn’t want Harry thinking he’s unwelcome when this is just as much his home as all of theirs these days.

“Haz, listen, I know things are... they’re _whatever_ they are right now, but you don’t have to _go_ ,” Louis blurts out. “You don’t have to leave _._ Not- Not just because _I_ -”

“I’m not,” Harry assures him, his hands finally going still. “I’m not running from you, love. I’ve just got that clinical studies exam, remember?”

An exam, not pure hatred. Got it.

“Oh.” Vaguely, an important exam rings a bell. “Right.”

“It’s in a few days, so I’ll need to go into hermit-mode for a bit...” Louis was never a fan of hermit-mode where Harry only texts for days on end due to school. It sucks almost as much as ‘taking a break’-mode where apparently, they don’t speak at all.

Louis misses him, his breath catching in his throat as Harry bridges the gap between them and wraps him in a much-needed hug. “I’m going home because I have to study. _And_ , I want to give you space,” he whispers before reluctantly letting Louis go. “For whatever you might need space for.”

That sounds like more code to Louis. And also, some slight curiosity on Harry’s part though he’d never pry about something so private.

“I _did_ go talk to somebody today,” Louis confirms. “Her name’s Dr. Olson, she’s got about ten-thousand uni degrees and writes down every bloody thing I say... she hasn’t fixed me yet, but she’s giving it a go.”

That last part pulls a small smile out of Harry who looks at Louis like he’s every bit as in love with him as he often claims. Sometimes, Louis can almost feel it; let himself believe in it. “You’re not broken, love,” he says, gently pressing his lips to Louis’ temple. “There’s nothing to fix.”

Louis begs to differ, feeling paralyzed by the soft ‘ _I love you_ ’ his boyfriend whispers before leaving. He wants nothing more than to call Harry back to him and say those words too, but the heavy, anxious feeling settled in his chest stops him from doing so. It always does.


	2. Chapter 2

H

Harry’s stomach is in knots by the time Louis’ front door closes behind him, making this divide between them cut even deeper. He stands on Louis’ front steps trying to talk himself into _not_ going back inside for so long his knuckles are pink from the cold. When Harry made the choice to come here and help out with Ernest and the girls, he knew it would be difficult, but he didn’t anticipate how much it would hurt seeing Louis face-to-face and knowing they aren’t okay. Their fight left things in such a weird place that he wasn’t even sure he’d be welcome here, but Louis didn’t seem to mind his presence so much as he seemed confused by it.

Maybe Louis didn’t believe him when he said he wasn’t going anywhere and that their brief time-out isn’t code for something else. It wouldn’t be the first time that has happened, which is the whole reason for the break in the first place. For nearly a year, no matter how many times or ways Harry has tried telling Louis that he’s not going to just up and leave him one day; that he loves Louis more than anything or anyone, he won’t trust it. He won’t trust words, actions, or even Harry himself _,_ but it wasn’t until five days ago that Harry realized it may not be a case of _‘won’t’_ with Louis, but a case of ‘ _can’t’._

It’s not like Harry can really blame Louis with all he’s been through. All of his life, people leave just as fast as they come, but Harry isn’t one of them. And as much as Harry would love to help his boyfriend work through the things that are holding him back, he can’t. That’s not something Harry’s qualified to do. But, thankfully, Dr. Olson is.

The decision to let go and give Louis the space he needs doesn’t get any easier to accept once Harry is inside of his car, but by the time he gets home to his and Liam’s flat, he starts to feel okay. Glad to be doing what’s best for him and Louis right now instead of just doing what feels good. It’s hard being away from someone he loves so much. Someone who Harry can see himself with for the rest of his life. Louis is it for him, and that’s something he’s known for a long time. Possibly since the night they met exactly nine months ago.

****

_January 16 th\- Eight Months and Thirteen Hours Earlier_

Harry’s already awake when his alarm blares at him from somewhere on his bedside table across the room. That’s mostly thanks to the insomnia he’s been experiencing for the past week due to his schedule which now includes clinic hours on top of everything else expected of a second-year med student.

For most of this week, Harry has been in class from eight in the morning until noon, group labs afterwards which run until three o’clock, followed by his new clinic hours that are so busy and fast-paced that the six and a half hours fly by. He hasn’t had time to breathe all week and that’s not even including the homework he’s had to squeeze in between getting home from clinic and him crawling into bed with his laptop only to wake a couple of hours later panicked that he somehow overslept for classes despite setting an alarm. It’s been such a crazy and exhausting few days, that at this point Harry’s internal clock is in full rebellion. But the thing that gives Harry some peace of mind is that he’s made it to Friday, meaning he just has to make it through one more day before he hits the weekend. There’s no clinic on Fridays, easily making it the best and easiest day ever.

Glad to have nearly made it through the week, Harry locates his phone, shuts off the alarm, and heads straight for the shower to get ready. Once he’s all clean and dressed for the day he heads to the kitchen for his final, but most important part of his morning routine; getting caffeinated. 

“Another rough night?” Harry asks his flatmate who’s pouring what looks to be his second cup of coffee of the morning. Possibly even his third.

“If I was never assigned another project like this, it’d be too fucking soon,” Liam mutters rather than cutting his sleep-deprived eyes at Harry with the intensity of a thousand blades. Definitely his third cup. “But, luckily, I get to turn the bloody thing in first thing this morning, so it’ll all be over.”

Harry doesn’t bother telling his friend that his relief will only be temporary. Li’s got another two years left of his program so he’s only done with all-nighters in the engineering lab until his next project is due. Kind of the way Harry’s temporary break from the insanity of running around campus only lasts until Monday comes ‘round again. But, none of that’s important right now. Liam did a great thing.

“Congratulations, Li! I’m sure your professor’s going to love your um... Well, your idea for, erm- the design for...”

“Solar powered harvester system for recharging aquifers?”

“Yes!” Harry cheers. “ _That_! It sounds brilliant! Great job!”

Harry praises his flatmate’s innovations in hydrology engineering the same way Liam praises Harry’s medical wins like on his first day of clinic where he was picked to suture the tip of someone’s toe back on. It’s just that Harry manages to do so without grimacing.

“Thanks, H. Means a lot,” Liam chuckles, fully aware that Harry has no clue what the hell he’s been working on for so long, but he’s proud of him regardless.

A glance at the clock hanging over their fridge causes Liam to slurp too much coffee too fast as he realizes he’s about to be late presenting the project he’s spent days on.

“Shit, I’ve got to run, but thanks again! And good luck with clinic stuff tonight!” he shouts as he scurries out of the kitchen and toward his bedroom to finish getting ready.

“Thanks, but it’s Friday! Don’t have clinic stuff tonight!” Harry proudly reports back, pouring himself a generous amount of coffee in the biggest mug they own.

Liam may not know what clinic stuff even entails, but nobody would ever know that based on how thrilled he looks when he backtracks a few steps wearing a devious grin.

“You mean, we’re _both_ free from uni tonight?”

“Hmm. Guess so,” Harry shrugs, snorting a laugh when Liam’s brown eyes widen even more.

“We’re fucking celebrating then!” he shouts. “We’re going out!”

“ _Where_?” Harry snorts again, unable to even remember the last time he went out anywhere besides the clinic or the library.

“We’ll find somewhere! Stop worrying so much about details,” Liam orders him. “Just plan on us drinking later and having a great time with zero responsibilities.”

Harry fondly rolls his eyes at his flatmate’s ambitious plan. Instead of a wild night out what’s more likely is they’ll get home, be totally exhausted from the week, and pass out in front of Netflix with a half-eaten container of ice cream between them as per usual.

That actually wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Harry almost prefers that plan.

As suspected, Harry is ready to crash the moment he walks through his front door that evening. He seeks refuge on the sofa where he’s just about to make a movie decision for himself and his flatmate when the man himself waltzes through the door, takes one look at Harry already nearly comatose on the sofa, and narrows his brown eyes in disdain.

“ _NO_. Absolutely not,” he says, dropping his backpack in the entryway with a thump before loosening his presentation necktie and dropping it too.

“No, what? No Marvel?” Harry asks as he flips through all the Thor movies, now wondering if he should’ve gone more rom-com than action for tonight.

“No, I mean no to _this_. _All_ of it!” Liam gestures at him, the beanie over his hair, and his joggers that are so old there’s a hole in the left thigh but so comfy he’d rather die than throw them out.

“Well... I mean, I can always move over, Li. Plenty of room for two,” Harry reminds his friend.

“Oh, you’re moving over alright,” Liam scoffs, “Straight over to your room.” Initially, Harry makes a face at that and then gives an unbothered shrug. The two of them generally veg-out and watch dumb movies in their living room, but he’s not against giving the comfort of his own bed a try.

“Fine, but if we’re doing this in mine, I get the right side.”

“ _What the_?” Liam squawks. “No, _you’re_ going to your room. _Alone_ to get _dressed_. We’re going out, remember? We’re celebrating having _zero_ responsibilities?”

Harry’s wearing the softest pair of joggers in the world and was minutes away from digging into some chocolate mint ice cream. It already feels like a party to him, but clearly Liam doesn’t think so. He grows so impatient with Harry’s resolution to melt into the sofa cushions tonight that he walks over to the sofa, physically hoists him onto his feet with instructions to be ready in fifteen minutes for their friend’s music thing at some pub across town.

The pub Harry ends up reluctantly standing outside of about half an hour later is called Darkhorse. It’s the place where Liam’s friend Niall will be playing; someone who has become Harry’s good friend too after spending so much time at his and Liam’s flat. Darkhorse Pub also happens to be Niall’s place of employment when he isn’t busy playing and promoting his music all over the city. He seems to gain more fans and support with each song; once he shows up, that is.

His shows rarely ever start on time due to some hold-up or another that usually involves Niall losing track of time socializing with anyone and everyone he comes into contact with, but that’s just part of the fun of going to one of Niall’s shows. The good thing about his tardiness is that he loves to play pubs so even if there isn’t music to kick off the evening, there’s always the next best thing; alcohol.

Harry is just starting in on this third pint of the night, enjoying that warm fuzziness beginning to spread through him. He’s happy, tipsy, and generally unbothered that he and everyone else in the building are sitting at a music-less music show as Liam astutely points out.

“That wanker’s late again. Explain to me how the hell someone is late to their own show when they _work_ at the bloody venue?” Liam chuckles into his beer.

That’s a fair question since technically Niall’s set should’ve started a whole fifteen minutes ago Harry realizes after a quick glance at his phone. Though unlike his friend, Harry’s not overly concerned by the delay. He has the cool pints he’s been sipping down ever since he and Liam arrived to thank for that. Also, the well-earned stretch of free time he’s allowing himself tonight since he hasn’t been out in ages. He hasn’t hung out with Liam or Niall in just as long. Hours of clinic, classes, studying, and trying to decide which kind of doctor he actually wants to be at the end of all of this can do that, but Harry pushes all thoughts of school away from his mind, determined to have fun and cheer the loudest when Niall Horan finally emerges from backstage with his guitar and drags his arse to the stool and mic waiting for him.

Their friend receives the warmest of welcomes from the crowd who find his notorious tardiness endearing, and it is. Niall’s magnetism is just one of the many reasons he has accrued such a loyal fanbase over the years. And for that reason, Harry’s attention should be focused on him and the bullshit technical difficulties story he’s spinning up on stage which was really just a close footie match he couldn’t tear himself away from until he knew the final score.

Everybody in the room is turned towards him and the faint melody beginning to take shape as he talks; everybody except Harry who turns at the sound of the pub’s double doors creaking open to watch the man in the denim jacket who just walked in. The man spots the single pair of eyes on him after a quick scan of the room and holds Harry’s gaze for a heartbeat; just long enough for Harry’s breath to catch in his throat before the man turns away without preamble and quietly ducks behind the bar, effectively stealing Harry’s attention for the rest of the night.

For the next forty minutes Niall plays half a dozen songs. Harry can’t focus on a single one of them with his gaze constantly drifting over to the bar where three people are working tonight, but only one of them makes Harry’s stomach flutter each time he smiles at something his co-workers say or a wad of cash gets shoved into his tip jar. Harry can’t help but notice each time it happens because the man’s smile lights up the dim room in a way that the spotlights could never hope to.

So far, that’s about all Harry knows about him. Well, that, and the fact that he’s a fan of tonight’s setlist which he mouths the lyrics to every now and then. Also, Harry notices that he isn’t the only person stealing glances from across the room because each time Harry looks toward the bar a pair of blue eyes manage to locate him and stare back. Harry doesn’t even have a name to go off of; something he needs to remedy as soon as he works up the nerve to actually go and speak to the man rather than pining across the fucking pub.

He had hoped intermission could be his window of opportunity, however as soon as the music stops the pub lights go up and everyone who had been sitting in the audience is suddenly standing at the bar. The crowd becomes so thick that Harry can hardly even make out anybody standing behind the bar, something that becomes impossible a minute later when Niall wanders over for a visit and completely blocks Harry’s view.

“What ya staring at?” he asks with a fresh drink already in his hands somehow.

“More like _who_ ,” Liam drunkenly snickers, making Harry glare in his direction with a very menacing ‘ _Shut up_ ’.

“Interesting,” Niall smirks, his attention now on the crowd and the mystery person who has caught Harry’s eye. “Well, H, lucky for you, I know everybody in this pub!” he boasts. “Just point em out and I can tell you just about everything you’d ever need to know.”

“Even about someone _behind_ the bar?” Liam chimes in earning a fresh glare _and_ a look of surprise.

“Really now?” Niall asks with more interest. “You mean Lydia? That’s too bad, because she’s amazing but you’re about a year too late there.”

“Not her,” Liam smirks, not even phased when he’s swiftly kicked in the shin beneath the table for being a prick.

“If you mean Stan, you’re out of luck there too, mate, because he and Lydia are- O-Oh _._ _Ohhh_ ,” Niall grins, his gaze now zeroed in on the beautiful man Harry’s growing more and more nervous to actually speak to by the second.

“What? Is he with Stan too?” Harry quips when Niall looks at him with his grey eyes loaded with serious consideration that melts to something warm and hopeful that does nothing to lessen Harry’s anxiety. “ _What_?” he demands only for Niall to shrug and turn his beer up to his lips for a long sip.

“Nothing,” he chirps back once half the glass is emptied down his throat. “Nothing at all.”

Nothing? After all that fuss Harry was at least hoping for a _name_ to help him out.

“What happened to _‘I can tell ya anything about everyone_ ’?” Harry inquires to turn the tables on Niall whose attention is now on another group of people drunkenly beckoning him to their table to say hello.

“Welp. Guess that applies to everyone but your boy,” Liam snickers into his beer only for Niall to disagree.

“No, it doesn’t,” Niall counters. “I know him quite well... _and_ you,” he grins, “I just think you two might enjoy getting to do the same without my help.”

“They could hate each other,” Liam unhelpfully points out, laughing as he just misses Harry’s second kick attempt.

“Maybe...” their friend semi-agrees with a knowing grin. “But, probably not.”

“Wow, thanks for all the confidence, guys,” Harry deadpans in response to Liam’s teasing and Niall’s ominous cryptics. And the way he playfully pokes Harry in one of his dimples before flitting away to annoy another group of friends.

Niall’s quick dismissal from their table happens around the same time that Harry accepts that he’s not going to hate or get to know anybody if he doesn’t get up and do the same. With a final sip of his beer, Harry stands, answers his flatmate’s drunken ‘ _Good luck!_ ’ with an affectionate _‘Fuck off’_ , and heads toward the bar.

Once there amongst ninety-five percent of the people in the pub, Harry realizes the major flaw in his plan, which is the presence of ninety-five percent of the people in the pub. They separate Harry from the bar as well as his bartender, but having to wait isn’t worst thing in the world. For one, it gives Harry the opportunity to notice the way the pub lights cut across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, and how deep his eyes become under the shadow of his long lashes. Somehow, he’s more beautiful than Harry realized, which is the second reason Harry doesn’t mind waiting behind the queue; he needs time to work out what the hell he’s going to _say_ to such a beautiful person so he doesn’t freeze up.

Several ideas come to mind as his eyes scan the menu hanging over the bar that Harry isn’t actually reading. It just gives him something to do while he weighs the possible effects of ‘ _You’re amazing’, ‘You’re amazing and gorgeous’_ , ‘ _Marry me’,_ or a slightly more simple and subtle, ‘ _Hello_ ’.

He quickly realizes there are far too many ways for Harry to fuck this up and he’s also more intoxicated than he thought. Harry becomes more and more nervous about this as time passes and the amount of people at the bar starts whittling down to only a few people. By the time the pub lights flicker to signal the end of intermission, there’s nobody standing at the bar but himself.

Harry glances around and notices everyone has returned to their tables, Niall has made it back to the stage, and Liam who Harry abandoned, probably isn’t too torn up about it as he chats with the pretty brunette now sitting at their table. They seem to be getting along quite well judging by their matching smiles as they exchange numbers. Harry can only hope that things go half as well for himself as he finally stops pretending to give a shit about the drinks menu and fixes his attention behind the bar... where all three bartenders including Harry’s seem to be in disagreement about something or someone; _Harry_ , he realizes when three pairs of eyes look up and focus right on him. 

It happens so fast that Harry almost misses the thinly veiled smirks on two of their faces before they link hands and then scurry out of the bar area. There’s just one person left now who doesn’t look half as amused as his two co-workers were. In fact, he looks almost annoyed at his coworkers and and by Harry approaching the bar, however he appears less so after Harry smiles with a soft ‘ _Hi_ ’.

It takes a moment for the man to say anything back, but there’s a shyness in his voice when he stops staring at Harry and stutters a hello that says maybe Harry’s not the only one who’s nervous.

Neither of them say anything for a few beats where only Niall’s voice can be heard alongside his guitar. The whole while, the bartender’s gaze travels his face, his blue eyes darting up from the dimples that appear as the corners of Harry’s lips turn up into a grin.

“Erm... _So!_ What are you drinking? What can I get for you?”

Harry’s so endeared by him pretending like he wasn’t blatantly checking Harry out that he forgot the whole guise that got him here.

“Er- _Oh_ ,” Harry says, now wishing he had paid just a little bit of attention to the drink menu. “Um... I, uh,” He has no fucking idea. “Honestly, I have no fucking clue,” he admits with a laugh. The bartender doesn’t seem shocked by this as a tiny grin starts to light up his face. Maybe this really will go well like Harry had hoped. “Um, what would you suggest?” he asks just to hear the man speak some more; to keep the conversation going, but suddenly the direction of that conversation changes and Harry’s left wondering if maybe he gave the wrong impression.

“Well, I’d say that mostly depends on what _you_ like,” the man tells him in a tone that suggests they’re no longer talking alcohol. Instead of a shy grin, Harry now receives a smirk that makes Harry feel like this is more of a game for the bartender than anything else. “Tell me what you’re in the mood for,” he whispers, leaned in so close to Harry’s ear that he can feel his breaths warming the skin.

Harry swallows hard once the man pulls back, his self-satisfied gaze zeroes in on his cheeks getting warmer by the second as he realizes he may be in over his head here. It’s not every day, or _ever_ really, that he gets men who look like this one making his stomach flip with nothing but a look. Which isn’t necessarily a _bad_ thing. It’s just not what Harry was expecting.

He has nothing against seedy pub hookups as he has been a willing participant in a few over the years, but they just aren’t Harry’s thing. Not anymore at least. These days, he enjoys getting to know people and falling in love too much for that. He had hopes that maybe tonight would slowly lead him down that path, but. Clearly not.

He swallows down the slight sting at this turn of events; of the bartender not being even remotely as interested in him as Harry is. Harry had thought he felt a faint spark between them that maybe could’ve grow into something more, but he was getting way ahead of himself. He has misread this entire situation and that’s on him.

The man’s smirk disappears a second later, his eyes losing the superficial quality they once held and going back to their genuine light blue that feels almost guilty.

“I-I’m sorry,” the man apologizes out of nowhere before walking away to pour a giant pint and then place it front of Harry like some sort of peace offering. “For you. On the house...” he says so quietly it’s nearly lost in the music. “Enjoy the rest of the show,”

Harry blinks down at his apology pint and then back to the bartender whose giving so many mixed signals that Harry isn’t quite sure where they stand. He should just walk away. Go back to his table, drink his free beer with Liam and his new future girlfriend, and forget any of this ever happened, but there’s something about this man that keeps Harry standing right where he is. There’s something about him that tells Harry his initial instincts were right; that make it hard for Harry to actually walk away.

“ _Shit_. You hate dark,” the man concludes from Harry’s continued presence. “Fuck,” he laments, turning to grab a clean glass. “I’m usually so good at guessing that sort of thing,” he mutters, blue eyes going wide when a desperate voice stops him from walking away to give it another go.

“ _No, don’t_!” Harry blurts much louder than he intended making nearly everyone including Niall look in their direction.

He really didn’t mean to make such a scene, silently mouthing apologies at everyone he disturbed, grateful when everyone finally stops staring to focus back on the stage. Everyone but the very wary-looking man behind the bar who looks pretty grateful for the beer-stained cherry wood separating them.

“I-I’m sorry,” Harry says first and foremost. “I didn’t mean to shout at you,” he explains with his cheeks burning. He hates when they do that. He also hates that he can’t stop talking whenever he’s nervous. Kind of like right now. “Um, I _do_ like dark beer,” he adds to restore the man’s confidence. “And light beer too, I suppose...” he tacks on after giving it some thought. “I guess I don’t really have a preference, so technically, you guessed right.” 

“ _Right_ ,” the man echoes, eyes narrowed at Harry even further as he tries to read him. Unfortunately, he doesn’t come to the conclusion Harry was hoping for. He must not see the well-intentioned person beneath the idiot who just rambled about beer of all things, because the next thing Harry knows, he’s being kindly asked to fuck off. “Well. Have a nice night!”

“W-Well, honestly, I didn’t _really_ come up here because I wanted another drink...” he confesses, and miraculously, it keeps the man from immediately walking away and consider him somewhat seriously. Harry hadn’t actually expected that to work, but since it has, he doesn’t plan on losing momentum. “Um, I mean, I appreciate the free beer. And, I know you’re on the clock and all, but, uh. I kind of just wanted to talk to you?” Perhaps that was one honest admission too many as Harry receives no verbal response. Just a confused, and increasingly endeared grin. “Jesus, sorry again,” Harry snorts. “Was that weird? God, this is going so well, isn’t it?”

Harry’s little joke doesn’t flop, thank God. Actually, it’s quite effective at producing yet another grin. Maybe he can save this after all.

“It’s cool,” the man decides a moment later, giving an unbothered shrug. “Have a good night,” he chuckles followed by a cheeky “Yes? May I help you?” when he notices Harry grinning back at him rather than heading to his seat.

“Hi. I’m Harry,” he smiles, watching the man fight the urge to do the same. “Now, you’re supposed to tell me your name is...?”

“ _Busy_ ,” the man quips back, blinking back when his response is answered with Harry abandoning his apology pint to extend a hand across the bar.

It feels like an eternity before a stubborn smile brightens the man’s eyes, and finally, he meets Harry halfway.

“I’m Louis,” he reveals, fondly rolling his eyes at Harry’s smile doubling in size just from learning his name “ _And_ , I’m still extremely busy,” he adds without letting go of Harry’s hand. It’s a lie. The bar looks pretty good minus a couple of stray dirty glasses. A task that Louis decides can wait as Niall’s version of _Skinny Love_ comes to an end and the crowd applauds hearing him transition into something else.

“You smoke?” Louis asks after their extended handshake ends with Louis gently easing his hand out of Harry’s. Weird question, but he’s looking directly at Harry and clearly hoping for a yes that Harry is all too eager to give.

“Er- _Sure_.” He’s never even held a lit a cigarette before let alone smoke one, but when the most gorgeous and coolest person on the face of the Earth asks, you just don’t say no. “Yeah, I smoke,” Harry nods more convincingly, hoping this is going where he thinks it is, which is an opportunity to talk more with Louis without ten billion other people around.

He can’t tell if Louis buys his lie as he looks Harry up and down in amused suspicion, but at least he’s not calling Harry out on it if he can sense that Harry’s full of shit.

“Okay. Well, I’m taking a break in ten,” he shrugs. If Harry heard that correctly, that was a personal and direct invitation for Harry to tag along. At least he thinks it was anyway. “ _Meaning_ I wouldn’t exactly mind some company,” Louis clarifies with another fond roll of his eyes, confirming Harry’s initial assumption. He _is_ meant to tag along.

This just turned into the best night ever. And to think, he wanted to spend it on the bloody sofa.

“O-Oh. Okay. Nice,” he says trying to match Louis’ level of cool about this situation. Which he very nearly pulls off right before his nerves get the better of him and he can’t shut up. “Good. Great. _Cool_.”

****

 _Cool_ turned out to be the last thing Harry appeared to be, nearly coughing up his lungs in the narrow alley behind the pub. He came out of that moment with a sore chest, a couple of singed fingers, and very wounded ego. But, it wasn’t all bad because he also came out of that moment with a kiss, solidifying Harry’s original belief that despite him and Louis being relative strangers, there was something special there that couldn’t be ignored.

It was the fifteen minutes the two of them spent together in that cold alley that did it for Harry. He had already fallen for Louis in just that short amount of time and Harry learned a lot about him just from listening to him talk; even more from the things he didn’t say. And even though Louis more or less tried to get rid of Harry again almost immediately after kissing him, Harry knew in his heart the moment their lips touched that they could be something great, and they were. They _are_ , he mentally corrects himself because their relationship isn’t over; far from it.

Harry left Louis’ and came home today with the intention of studying just like he said, but so far he hasn’t made it any further than the sofa where’s he been so caught up in his own head that the sound of the door handle jiggling across the room pulls him back to real life. It’s just Liam fumbling with the key to their flat as usual. He nearly jumps out of his skin when he steps inside and notices Harry sitting in the shadows due to the moon now glowing where the sun sat not very long ago.

“ _Jesus._ You scared the shit out of me,” his flatmate complains, chuckling as he flips a light switch to illuminate the room. “Why were you in the dark, you weirdo?”

“I wasn’t.” It was still relatively light out when he first got home. “I guess I lost track of time after Louis’...”

That gives Liam pause where he was just starting to dig through the coat closet near the door where all their bulky winter things and luggage are kept. “Shit, Haz,” Liam winces, his brown eyes full of concern now that he realizes where Harry was. “How did it go seeing him?”

“About as well as the face you just made thinking about it,” Harry jokes humorlessly. Liam ignores his attempt to lighten the mood and distract, coming over to sit next to Harry rather than pack for the trip to Brighton to meet his girlfriend’s parents. They’ve been planning it for weeks now, and Liam has been an anxious mess for just as long. As if there’s any chance of Samantha’s parents not loving him instantly. Harry grins just thinking about it. About how far they’ve come in just under a year. Liam hasn’t said anything, but Harry assumes marriage isn’t far from his best friend’s mind based on the way he and Samantha talk about their future together. Harry gets it one-hundred percent because he’s just sure about him and Louis. “Remember the night we met them?” he asks watching Liam’s eyes turn fond at the memory.

Who knew the evening Liam dragged them to hear Niall play would change their lives so much.

“You two are going to be just fine, you know that, yeah?” Liam assures him with a firm squeeze of his shoulder.

Yes, Harry does know that. At least that’s what he tells himself because he wholeheartedly believes he and Louis will make it. The two of them having issues doesn’t make them or their relationship an issue. Harry loves Louis as much as ever and that loves don’t stop just because they’re going through a rough patch. Harry’s love for him doesn’t just stop _ever_ , no matter what. It’s just so difficult getting his boyfriend to believe that. He won’t give up hope though. Louis may not fully believe it today or even ten years from today, but he’s trying to get there and Harry will be right here whenever he does.

_“I never loved nobody fully. Always one foot on the ground...”_

L

September 23rd\- Session #2

“So far, we’ve talked a little about you and Harry and the beginning of your relationship together. We’ll definitely talk more about that and where you two are today, but first I think it’d be a good idea if we talk a bit about your past relationships. It could be good in unpacking and understanding what’s going on now.”

Louis tries his best to keep a straight face in front of Dr. Olson and fails miserably He can’t help but snort just thinking how fucking cliché this all sounds. His bloody _past?_ His bloody _relationships?_ That’ll be a short fucking list, that’s for sure.

“You really want to spend time chatting about my dumb exes?” he smirks. “What? No lying on a sofa and staring up at the ceiling to talk about my repressed childhood trauma from never winning Mario Kart or something?”

“Maybe one day if necessary,” Dr. Olson quips, “But for today, just your past relationships will do since I don’t even have the Nintendo set up. Also, I’d hate sending you back to such a dark place by crushing you.”

Again, Louis is unable to keep a straight face, cracking a genuine smile at his therapist who just might be alright after all. _Touché_.

“Now, if you’re quite finished referencing every bad psych film ever...” she grins, raising an expectant brow at Louis who would much prefer having his arse handed to him via Mario Kart to talking about his fucking exes.

“There’s not much to tell,” he warns, rolling his eyes when Dr. Olson’s other brow rises in a way that says she hasn’t got all day. “Alright fine,” Louis huffs, caving under the pressure. “What do you want? First crush? Emily Shepard; I was a goner the moment she gave me her extra juice box on the playground. We were seven. First kiss? Thomas Shepard, Emily’s twin brother who always became rather friendly after a wine cooler or two.”

“And how old were you then?”

“ _Eight_ ,” Louis deadpans, sighing in defeat when his therapist gives him a flat face. “We were thirteen,” he confesses, turning up his nose at the memory which ended with Thomas puking into the bushes.

Dr. Olson isn’t laughing, not that Louis really expected her too. “You’re not taking this very seriously,” she says matter-of-factly. “You’ve given me your first crush and kiss. Now what about boyfriend or girlfriend?”

“Girlfriend.” Of sorts. “Jennifer. We were fourteen,” Louis answers grudgingly. 

“I’m assuming that didn’t work out since you’re not currently together,” Dr. Olson comments. Louis hadn’t known it at the time, but breasts and vaginas aren’t really his thing. From what he’s heard, Jennifer likes them just fine. “What happened there?”

“Let’s just say we had _creative_ differences.”

“Say no more,” Dr. Olson grins knowingly as she jots down Louis’ first and last stint with heterosexuality. “So, I’m assuming that didn’t work out for obvious reasons,” she continues, “but, what about after her?”

A revolving door of pseudo-relationships and sex with men who mattered and cared right up until they didn’t. Dr. Olson doesn’t seem very shocked to hear that when Louis briefly explains, but she blinks at Louis, doing that thing with her eyebrow again that’s meant to gently push him along.

“I’m not sure what else you want me to say here,” Louis chuckles. “Obviously, I’ve dated people in the past. And, obviously, none of them worked out, but that’s only because it never does.”

More detailed note-taking, meaning he must’ve said something right just now. Or _wrong._ It’s difficult to tell.

“And why is that, Louis?” Dr. Olson asks. “Why do things ‘ _never_ ’ work out in your opinion?”

Louis rolls his eyes at her use of air quotes around the word never, wishing he’d been more careful.

“I see where you’re going with this, Doctor, and you’re wrong because I misspoke,” Louis begins matter-of-factly. “It’s not that things _never_ work out. Obviously, they do for _some_ people...” he says looking intentionally at the sparkly wedding band on her finger.

“Just not for you?” she asks, though it’s really a statement. She blinks up from her notes to meet Louis’ eyes, and for a long time, they’re caught in a tense stare-off. It ends with Louis giving a shrug of indifference that looks and _feels_ a lot like agreement. “And what makes you think that, Louis? That things don’t work out for you.”

He doesn’t think. He _knows_ from years of yielding the same result over and over again.

“Probably because they never have,” he quips though he would think that’s stating the obvious. He wouldn’t be here subjecting himself to this each week if things had worked out for him.

“Do your past relationships feel like failures to you?”

“We’ll they certainly weren’t success stories,” Louis mutters. “And they certainly weren’t relationships. Not _real_ ones anyway.”

“Not like the one you’re in now,” she assumes, blinking up at Louis for confirmation.

“I- I guess that’s fair,” Louis decides after giving it a bit of thought. He and Harry have felt different from the start.

“What do you think made your past relationships unsuccessful?”

Louis snorts humorlessly at the question. “I don’t know. Maybe people not _actually_ meaning the things they said, or not wanting any of the things they claimed to have wanted.” Things would’ve been so much better if his exes had just been honest on day one. ‘ _Yes, I like you, Louis, but not quite as much as this other person I barely know, so cheers,’_ or ‘ _Sure, I’ll be there for you, but when your mum becomes terminally ill and your life is falling apart, locating me is going to be pretty hard. Oh, and by the way, I won’t show up to the bloody funeral either, so don’t wait up’_.

Dr. Olson, blinks up from her notes again after Louis blurts out all the things he generally keeps inside his head. She looks at him with empathy that almost makes Louis feel less shitty having to dredge up memories about people who didn’t give a shit about him.

“It sounds like your exes didn’t take your feelings into consideration and they weren’t clear about a lot of things upfront,” Dr. Olson summarizes. And again, fair. “Jesus, they sound like pricks,” she mutters, making them both smirk. It’s official. Louis doesn’t hate her. “Now, my next question is whether _Harry_ says things like that to you; makes promises about things he has no intention of following through?” Perhaps Louis spoke too soon.

“No?” Louis answers after thinking through the past nine months where Harry has done exactly as he said; sometimes even _more_. “Harry’s... he isn’t like them.” For one thing, he’s not an ex. Not yet anyway. The whole reason Louis is here is to keep that from happening.

Dr. Olson writes that down as her brow furrows. “What do you mean he isn’t like them? What makes him different?”

 _Everything_. He’s never met anyone like Harry and doubts he will again. That knowledge keeps Louis up some nights just knowing that things would always be slightly worse if Harry were to walk away like all the others.

“Does he love you?” she asks quietly. “Is that what makes him different?”

Her questions paralyze Louis, almost as quickly as whenever Harry talks about love. His silence is probably more telling than anything he could ever say out loud.

“Well, I don’t know Harry personally; only what you’ve told me, but it sounds like he loves you a great deal.”

“I guess so...” Louis shrugs, knowing it’s true even if it is unbelievable.

“How does that make you feel?”

Louis rolls his eyes at the prompt that must be written in the therapist handbook in giant bold letters. “Good, I suppose. Happy,” he answers, sighing when he gets an encouraging raise of an eyebrow. “...Nervous. Kind of scared I guess,” he continues, feeling his chest tighten around the emotions.

“Like you’re waiting for something to happen.” He nods, unsure if the something he’s anticipating is bad or good. “I want you to think about you and Harry one day from right now if you weren’t taking a break. What do you see?”

That’s not as hard of a question as Louis expected. Actually, it’s pretty easy to imagine what they’d be doing as they’ve been doing it for the better part of a year.

“We’re going about things as usual. I’m getting dinner on the table, getting my siblings ready for bed and school the next day. Harry’s just left the clinic but he’s helping because he actually likes to cook and the twins love when he reads because he does the best voices,” he grins.

“That sounds really nice,” Dr. Olson grins back. “Now I want you to imagine you both in another three days... one week... one month... one year... two years,” she prompts until they’re five years out and Louis can hardly picture himself let alone him and Harry. “What happened? Around a year you stopped describing what you see.”

That’s because he doesn’t really _see_ anything. Even less at five years when he’s twenty-six years old, Harry has graduated medical school and doing his residency somewhere that’s probably _not_ London, Louis’ eldest sisters are probably off at uni somewhere, and Doris and Ernest are nearly pre-teens. It sounds impossible, but he supposes it isn’t.

“Do you think Harry would have a difficult time placing you both at different times in the future?”

“No. He does it all the time,” Louis says, almost laughing from how easy it is for Harry to dream.

“Why do you think he does that and then tells you about it?”

“I guess he sees us working out somehow, but no one knows what’s going to happen five or ten years from now,” Louis points out, but Dr. Olson doesn’t seem to agree.

“I think at this point, when Harry thinks about his future in any way, he sees you because you’re still together. And I think it’s harder for you to do the same, because in your version of the future, he’s gone like all the others.” It’s true. Louis can hardly believe he isn’t gone now.

“It’s not like I _want_ him to leave,” Louis whispers.

“Yes, but that’s what you’re waiting for, isn’t it?”

She’s not wrong. All these months Louis has been wondering which lie or argument it’ll be that does them in. They definitely came close to it recently. Louis had fully prepared himself for Harry walking away. He even welcomed Harry leaving just to bloody get it over it, but he didn’t.

“If you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, it can feel scary just like you described, and it’s completely okay to feel scared because the future is open-ended. You don’t know what’s going to happen, but you _do_ know that Harry loves you and I think you might love him back. That’s not a guarantee that you two will be together five or ten years from now, but it’s a pretty good start,” she grins.

It’s the kind of good start Louis hasn’t had with anyone else, that’s for sure.


	3. Chapter 3

****

_January 23_ _rd \- One Week After Niall’s Show_

Louis knew he would be late for work the moment he woke up and realized he forgot to move the twins’ clothes from the washer to the dryer last night after a spilled carton of juice warranted an emergency laundry session. That mistake set him back nearly twenty minutes, but his eldest siblings helping to get everyone up, dressed, and fed put him back on track. Almost.

He manages to drop the twins at school on time which is great for them, but not so much for Louis who opts to take the shortcut to work. It’s the boring way that doesn’t even allow him his few minutes of peace at The Millennium Bridge, however it’s the quickest way allowing him to bust through the doors of the uni’s student registry office just a few minutes after eight.

Most everyone he passes is busy so they don’t pay Louis and his tardiness too much attention. Holly is also preoccupied on a call from someone inquiring about a transcript. Meaning Louis is able to slip behind their shared desk without her noticing. Or so he thought.

“Rough morning, dear?” she asks after her call ends, grabbing a blueberry muffin and travel coffee from her work bag and sliding it in front of Louis like the absolute angel she is.

“How is it that you always know when I’m a right fucking mess?” Louis laughs, only now realizing he forgot to eat in the midst of all the madness this morning.

“Hmm, maybe I have a super power after all. _Or_ maybe I’ve just learned to double my orders because caffeine and sugar make everything great,” Holly teases.

Louis has never been a morning person so he definitely appreciates it. He’s just about to dig in when his back pocket vibrates a couple of times to interrupt him.

His first thoughts are that of concern, assuming something has happened with one of his siblings at school so he immediately reaches for his phone, imagining a million horrible scenarios at once. He’s almost afraid to look once his screen brightens, taking a deep breath to prepare himself for the cheery ‘good morning!’ text he just received from the guy he met last week complete with a five sunshine emojis.

That’s... interesting, Louis thinks just as he has ever since Harry began texting him little things here and there a few days ago. It’s also a huge relief that none of his sisters or his brother have set their classroom on fire, robbed a bank, or broken all four limbs.

“Is something wrong?” Holly frowns with the same concern Louis had just seconds ago. Her expression changes to one of intrigue when Louis grins quietly to himself and his message before turning over his phone with a nonchalant ‘ _Nope.’_

The ringing of their office phones saves him from having to explain just as it has every other time this week Holly has caught him reading texts from an apparent ghost. She answers hers and stops eyeing Louis skeptically when he starts multitasking eating breakfast, answering his own calls, and chipping away at the mountain of emails that have collected in their inbox overnight.

Getting through them keeps Louis busy all morning meaning he ends up leaving Harry hanging by accident, which Louis is reminded of later on at his second job when he’s practically elbow deep in the marinara sauce that he was told to let simmer and stir until thick; whatever the hell that means.

His back pocket vibrates again and Louis’ stomach only briefly drops as he imagines the worst. However, once his boss is far enough away for him to momentarily pause stirring and grab his phone, he’s able to see that no one is ill, dead, or dying. It’s just Harry again, this time showing off his photography skills and the rainbow arched across the London sky after the light rain they just had... complete with several rainbow emojis for added emphasis.

Louis grins at the photo, unsure if he should comment on the brightness of the rainbow itself, the photographer who managed to capture it, or both. Any of the three feels like a lot considering Louis forgot to answer him this morning. That’s happened a few times since they met a week ago, but it’s not like it has been intentional. Louis’ just always busy; always distracted. The timing’s never quite right and it’s difficult trying to come up with something good to text back to Harry that won’t make him sound like an idiot. Or, like someone who hasn’t even attempted to date in over a year. He’s just not good at this sort of thing anymore. And speaking of things Louis sucks at...

“ _Shit!_ ” he hisses as the smell of burnt tomatoes and garlic starts filling the restaurant kitchen. He has to act fast, shoving his phone back into his pocket and removing the giant pan of marinara sauce from the stovetop in order to save it. Or what’s _left_ of it anyway with a large portion stuck to the bottom of the pan. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groans when his boss fixes him with a pointed look from across the room that means Louis needs to start over and _now_.

Lucky him.

That’s pretty much the way it goes the rest of the day and the way it has been all week. Harry texts him, Louis manages to respond with something quick if at all before his attention is pulled elsewhere, and thus continues the cycle.

It’s near the end of the day when Louis’ phone vibrates with a new text which he misses over the sound of the two youngest twins giggling rather than finishing their spelling homework and an argument between the two eldest twins over an outfit that according to Daisy, was borrowed with consent, however Phoebe disagrees. Louis doesn’t even realize Harry texted him until hours later after his jobs as homework supervisor, referee, lunch maker, bath time coordinator, and bedtime story teller are done.

Everyone is in bed including Louis when he does notice the message sitting beneath a handful of other messages from both of his step-dad’s, Stan, and also Niall. Louis suspects Mark and Dan were both just checking in. He assumes Stan and Niall were doing something similar or sending him more random memes to add to his collection.

Louis’ decision to open Harry’s texts first isn’t a terribly difficult one. The fact that Harry’s been left hanging the longest practically demands that his texts get priority status. Also, Louis more than curious to see which emoji bomb or nature photo he’s gotten this time. He’s kind of hoping for both but oddly enough finds neither from Harry. Instead, it’s just a couple of lines, the first apologizing for bugging Louis all day, the second asking Louis if he’s interested in grabbing a beer, coffee, tea, or all of the above sometime. It was sent hours ago which is probably why Louis’ phone starts vibrating right at that moment with a call from none other than the person who has been trying to contact Louis all day.

In a moment of mild panic, Louis throws the phone away from him. People don’t generally call him up this late to chat. And when they do, it’s usually not someone like Harry, but he guesses there’s a first-time for everything.

“H-Hello? Harry?” Louis asks once he convinces himself to dig his phone out of his duvet and actually answer it.

“Louis! You answered- er- Hi! How are you?” a deep voice says back, sounding almost surprised.

“Um... _Hi_ again,” Louis chuckles to himself. “I’m alright. Are _you_ alright?”

“I’m great. How are you? _Shit_. I asked that already, sorry,” Harry apologizes which shouldn’t be nearly as endearing as it is.

“That’s okay,” Louis says sitting up in bed, running a hand through his hair to neaten it up a bit even though no one can see. “So, Harry, was there something you wanted or-” Louis begins after a long pause between them, but it’s mostly lost under what Harry asks at the exact same time.

“I know it’s dumb to ask, but am I bothering you?” No, he isn’t, but Louis can see how his shitty texting response time might give someone that impression. “I-I mean, it’s totally fine if I am. I get it and I can back off or fuck off or whatever you need, I just. I wanted to be sure?”

Louis’ sure that Harry is either the most deceptively charming arsehole on the planet, or the most genuine. It goes against Louis’ better judgement, but something tells him that with Harry, it’s the latter.

“I’m not ignoring you, Harry and you’re not bothering me. I’ve just had kind of a crazy day; _week_ ,” Louis corrects himself.

“Oh,” Harry says, surprise coloring his voice along with some hopeful confidence. “I get that. My weeks can get pretty crazy too.”

At least they have that in common. “Actually, I was just about to answer your question from before when you called... I do like coffee and tea-”

“Yeah? Really?” Harry interjects excitedly. “Well, in that case we should meet up sometime for a drink. I don’t know when you’re free but I have a break tomorrow afternoon between class and group lab.”

“Um, o-okay,” Louis grins into the receiver. Louis barely has time during the day to do the things he needs to do let alone fuck around on a date, but he does like Harry, and he would like to go out with him even if it’s just for a few minutes so he decides to make time. “Meeting up tomorrow sounds great. But, um, I was thinking that maybe we could grab a beer instead? Nighttime works a bit better for me.”

It’s not a trade-off weekend so he’ll have the youngest twins, but Lottie, the eldest of all his siblings, will also be home meaning a quick meet up might be possible. Louis hates asking her to hold down the fort from time to time, but it’s nothing a trip to one of the dozens of posh beauty stores she loves can’t fix.

“That’s actually perfect. I don’t have clinic on Fridays, so I’m totally yours,” Harry says most likely by accident as he quickly backtracks when he hears Louis breathe a laugh into the phone. “Free. I meant I’m totally free.”

Regardless, Louis’ actually looking forward to it. Sure, he’s beyond busy and exhausted, and this little thing between the two of them is bound to fizzle out as quickly as it began, but he wants to give Harry a shot anyway. After surviving a week of texting-tag with Louis and not running for the hills, he deserves it.

H

January 24th\- One Week and One Day After Niall’s Show

Harry stands back to inspect himself in the mirror for what must be the hundredth time in the last half an hour, still unsure if he should opt for the white button down instead of the green t-shirt or if he’s wearing one too many rings. He thinks a t-shirt is more appropriate for tonight than anything else, but he has no idea what Louis would think. Really, he doesn’t know Louis at all, but that’s why Harry’s so anxious about their date. Tonight could be the night that finally starts to change that.

He needs a second opinion on his outfit, which he gets when his flatmate walks into the room wearing a towel around his waist and one of _Harry’s_ face masks.

“Isn’t that my mud mask?”

“Isn’t this my bedroom?” Liam counters, as he disappears into his closet to choose a date outfit of his own.

And yes, this is Liam’s room which happens to have the best mirror in the whole flat so he’s just going to have to deal.

“Hey, what do you think of this shirt?” Harry asks his best friend who responds from the depths of his closet where his nice shoes live. It seems Harry’s not the only person on a mission to look his best tonight.

“I think it looks great, just like the last five you tried on,” Liam teases. “What, do you think Louis’ going to take one look at you wearing blue instead of orange or pink and run?”

No, but Louis taking off isn’t that big of a stretch considering how hard it has been to pin him down. Harry couldn’t really read him the night they met, and that didn’t really improve over the last seven days. He seems to like Harry and he seems to want to get to know each other, he just comes off a bit skittish sometimes. That’s the main reason Harry’s so keen to impress. He doesn’t want to scare Louis off.

Harry receives a text at that moment, his stomach going fluttery with butterflies and also heavy with dread when he sees it’s from Louis. He’s hoping for the best but suspects the worst; a last-minute cancellation. It’s not, thank God. Just a quick message that Louis’ looking forward to seeing him and that he’ll be just a few minutes late due to something that came up at home, but he’ll be there.

Now tardiness Harry can deal with. Harry often runs a few minutes behind himself these days due to his hectic schedule so at least they have that in common. The fact that he thought to text Harry and let him know what’s going on says loads about him. Granted, Harry has no idea what exactly that could be and he certainly has no right to ask, but he hopes everything will be alright.

‘ _Okay. Sounds good. Good luck at home and see you soon!’_ he texts back, somehow even more excited about their date than before, even if it is running a bit behind schedule.

Harry arrives at Darkhorse Pub well before his date, but he knew that’d be the case when he left home. He decided on the green t-shirt with Liam’s help, who eventually decided on a grey button-down with Harry’s. Since arriving here at the location of Louis’ choosing, Harry’s feeling slightly less neurotic about tonight. He didn’t go for the same table he sat at with Liam that would’ve put him and Louis in full view of Niall, Stan, and Lydia currently working behind the bar. Instead, Harry chose a table closer to the empty stage where he had hoped they might have a bit more privacy. However, Harry quickly realizes privacy’s not really a thing in a place where everyone cares about Louis so much that they can’t stop themselves from curiously peeking over at Harry every chance they get.

That’s a good sign though. Knowing Louis has such amazing friends is a reflection of Louis himself, or at least that’s how Harry’s choosing to see it. Of course, he won’t find out for sure until Louis arrives which should be any moment now.

Harry takes a sip from one of the two glasses of water he ordered before glancing again at the double doors creaking open behind him. He has done so a dozen times since getting here, but so far his date hasn’t been among the people walking in. That’s not the case this time as Louis steps into the room and peers around it until he meets the pair of eyes watching him.

He’s just as beautiful as Harry remembers, offering Harry a taut, nervous grin from across the room. It quickly fades when he glances over at the bar and fondly rolls his eyes at the three other people intently staring. He ignores them pretty easily, locking eyes with Harry again and finally venturing away from the double doors to join him.

Harry has had over a week to prepare for this moment and yet his stomach is in knots watching Louis walk over in the same jacket he wore the night they met. However, tonight he’s wearing a blue t-shirt underneath it that does something so gorgeous to his eyes that Harry’s nearly breathless just looking at them. And like magic, all the knots in his stomach turn to butterflies.

“Hi,” Harry says, unable to control the way he’s grinning for seemingly no reason at all. It’s not like Louis can _see_ all the fluttering going on inside him, but Harry suspects Louis may be experiencing something similar when he grins back. Harry can only hope.

“Hey. Er- Sorry I’m so late,” he apologizes after a glance down at the phone clutched in his right hand.

“You’re not. And if you are, then I am too because I just got here,” Harry lies, however it’s only a tiny white lie. From the small sigh of relief his date breathes out, it was a choice well-worth it. “Um, so I chose this table, but we can move to any place you like,” he explains biting down on a smile when Louis rolls his eyes at their three-person audience straining to see them from behind the bar.

“Here’s perfect,” he answers, taking note of the two glasses of water before him, one of which is mostly empty indicating either extreme hydration on Harry’s part, or discrepancy in the time he’s been waiting. Louis doesn’t call him out on his white lie, but his lips do pull up into a knowing and appreciative grin.

Louis takes the seat across from Harry’s, giving his friends a full view of his back, and Harry a full view of the most handsome face Harry’s ever seen.

“So, how are things, Louis?” he smiles. “How was your day?” It’s something Harry is very much looking forward to hearing about, however right as Louis goes to answer, the phone still lightly clutched in his right hand vibrates.

“Erm- Shit. Sorry, one second,” Louis says, quickly reading over the text he’s just received before tapping out a quick reply. When the message is sent, Louis places his phone on the table and meets Harry’s gaze once more. 

“Is everything alright?”

“Hmm? Oh yeah, everything’s fine. Perfect,” Louis grins rather tightly as his phone vibrates again. For a moment, they both ignore it, but Louis’ expression grows more and more anxious with each second that passes.

“Do you need to answer that? Because I don’t mind...” Harry assures his date who shakes his head while staring at his phone as if he can read the text through the back of it.

“Nope. It’s just home stuff. It’s, uh, probably nothing. Probably.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself more than anyone, but eventually the suspense breaks him. “Uh... I’m, um, just gonna... sorry,” he apologizes, turning his phone over to catch himself up on whatever seems to be going on. This time he taps out a much longer reply before setting his phone down before letting out a tense breath and pasting his grin back on. “ _Right._ Okay. So, you were just asking me about my day... well, like always, this has basically been it,” he laughs nervously, his face falling when his phone starts vibrating with a call.

It’s face-up this time so Harry can see the giant ‘ _Home_ ’ displayed on the screen just as clearly as Louis who winces with his blue eyes full of guilt as he reaches for it. “I’m so sorry. I left my eldest sister in charge but the youngest can’t find her babbit- _rabbit_ ,” he corrects himself with his cheeks flaming red. ‘ _Be right back!_ ’ he mouths as he stands up from their table. “ _Hey, love. Everything’s going to be okay, I promise._ ”

“O-Okay. I’ll just be here,” Harry nods understandably, listening to Louis greet someone, presumably a child, in the gentlest voice ever just before excusing himself outside.

He’s left alone at their table wondering if it was poor manners to not offer to go with Louis or if he should just stay here like he promised and keep his nose out of business that doesn’t concern him. Of course, the issue is that Harry _is_ concerned and very much so. He’s concerned for his date, the upset person he’s currently comforting on the phone, and also this _babbit_ that has apparently gone missing.

Before Harry can even contemplate going to check on Louis, Stan and Niall abandon Lydia at the bar to sprint over to their half-empty table. They had to have seen Louis take off in a hurry which explains their looks of suspicion aimed at Harry.

“What just happened?” Stan demands. Thankfully, Niall’s loyalty is more equally split.

“Oi, we don’t know that anything did happen or that one person was to blame,” he says in Harry’s defense. “But, yeah, what Stan said. What the hell just happened?”

“Someone called about a babbit?” Harry shrugs, just as lost as their friends. “He’s just outside on the phone. Said he’d be right back.”

“You mean Babbit the rabbit?” Stan corrects him. And, yeah, Harry guesses that’s who he means. Louis didn’t really have time to go into details. “She belongs to Doris... their Mum gave that to her. You know _, before_.” More people and coded words Harry doesn’t know and his face must show his confusion. Stan and Niall exchange glances, each of them sighing in resignation.

“How much has Lou told you? About the past year I mean,” Niall asks.

Louis hasn’t told Harry much of anything at all. That’s why Harry was so excited to get a chance to talk. Harry doesn’t know him yet, but from what he’s gathered he’s a good man; just guarded, like letting people in is something he’s not overly comfortable with. But, that’s okay. They can move at Louis’ pace. In the meantime, Harry just needs to get to know him better.

“Look, H, I know this all seems like a lot and you may be starting to second guess-”

“I’m not second guessing or judging anyone,” Harry assures his friend and Stan who both grin at that.

“Well, good because Lou’s great. _Amazing_ ,” Niall declares as if Harry can’t already tell that just from how fiercely protective everyone is of him.

The very person they’re all chatting about steps back into the room a few seconds later, his demeanor and shoulders much more relaxed than when he had his phone up to his ear. Now it’s dark and down by his side, giving him the freedom to offer Harry another grin from the double doors. It sends the pit of Harry’s stomach into fits. He’s so gorgeous even though he looks exhausted. It just means that much more to Harry that Louis was even willing to come here tonight.

Niall and Stan have rejoined Lydia at the bar by the time Louis returns to their table; still wearing a grin, though it looks incredibly guilty. He doesn’t owe Harry a thing or any sort of explanation, but he gives one anyway starting with the call he had to take. He comes clean about why he’s so busy and distracted all the time, why he insisted their date tonight be at Darkhorse which is close to where he lives, why he was late showing up, and why his siblings just called him to help mediate an issue involving a very dear stuffed animal that was given to his sister Doris by someone who is now gone and is missed very, very much.

The confessions come out in a big rush of air that leaves Louis unable to look up from his anxious hands on the table top as if the moment he does Harry’s going to disappear. More than likely that has happened to Louis in the past; people running once they get past what’s on the surface. It’s not going to happen here tonight, and Harry intends to prove it.

“...Sorry I just sort of dumped all that on you,” he chuckles darkly before deciding that they should forget the last few minutes even happened. “Jesus. Let’s talk about something else. Let’s talk about y-you,” he breathes, his gaze locked on the hand now steadying his own.

“Actually, I’d really like to continue the conversation we were just having, if that’s alright with you? You were telling me about your siblings?”

Louis seems surprised by the bold move and request, his knuckles tensing beneath the warmth of Harry’s palm as if he’s not used to the feeling. He starts growing accustomed to it in a matter of seconds as well as Harry’s continued presence despite knowing just a bit more about him than he did before. Next, Louis’ fighting back a grin so big that his eyes crinkle at the corners, and then, something even more remarkable happens. He starts talking.

“Uh... okay? Right,” he laughs, sounding unsure, but open to giving it a try. He allows Harry to continue holding his hand though as he picks up where he left off. “So, uh... _Doris_ is the one who called. She’s my youngest sister but she also has a twin; Ernest. He’s my only brother out of six siblings,” he chuckles fondly, making Harry’s stomach do a full flip. “I can’t believe they’ll be _six_ next month. God, if she were here, my mum would...”

“She’d what?” Harry encourages Louis when his words taper off with a pained sort of smile.

“She’d be proud of them,” he finishes, realizing a few seconds later that Harry hasn’t changed the subject, awkwardly gotten up to leave, or let go of his hand yet, so perhaps it’s okay to talk about her. “...Her name was Johanna. She died a year ago last month.”


	4. Chapter 4

_“There's only one answer that matters_

_Even if your heart has been shattered_

_Whatever you want, whatever you are after_

_Love is still the answer.”_

L

It’s a Saturday night when Louis squeezes onto the sofa with his family for what has to be their fiftieth viewing of _Frozen_. Seriously, each of his eldest siblings has requested it multiple times in the last few years, the little ones demand to see it _at least_ two Movie nights out of the month, and on the other movie nights it’s usually Harry who traps them in an echo-chamber of ‘ _Do You Want to Build a Snowman?_ ’ and ‘ _Let it Go’._ All the movie’s songs are annoying as fuck. More than. However, it’s hard for Louis to care when he’s surrounded by the people he cares most about; minus one.

Usually, movie nights feel perfect or as close to perfect as things can get for his family these days. That’s largely attributed to Harry, Louis has come to realize in the three weeks that Harry hasn’t been here with them.

Louis still takes the blame for his absence even though both Dr. Olson and Harry have told him not to. Like Harry, Dr. Olson insists that them taking a break to evaluate is good and healthy. Louis is trying his best to see it that way too, but each time he replays their argument in his head he can’t help but feel wave after wave of guilt. Guilt for the way Louis yelled at him that day. Guilt for the awful things he said. And also, guilt for setting Harry up to fail without even realizing it.

He was testing Harry the day he asked him to pick up the twins from school. Louis has tested him repeatedly in their relationship just waiting for Harry to fuck up; to walk away and end it like all the others before him. It’s a high standard, perfection. Nobody is capable of it. Not even someone as wonderful as Harry, so really, Louis was hoping for a slip up just to prove himself right. He knows that about himself now which is good, because now he can try to be better. He can be a better partner and he can have fairer expectations rather than bringing past relationship issues into theirs. Not that Louis will be perfect at any of it, especially not right away, but he’s got time to get it right as long as Harry is willing to give it to him.

In addition to thinking about his past and his present as instructed by Dr. Olson, Louis has also been working on the exercise from a couple of sessions ago where he was instructed to try and imagine his future. When he first tried it two weeks ago, he could hardly see him and Harry past that day let alone years ahead. The more Louis tried the more hopeless he felt because he has never expected anyone to want to be with him for that long, but he’s working on it.

He tries imagining it now in the middle of his siblings laughing at Olaf on the screen, closing his eyes and imagining Harry sitting next to him with Ernest or Doris curled up in his lap and Lottie painting his toenails. He’s wearing one of Louis’ shirts, the longest pieces of his hair are held back by a headband, he’s singing all the Frozen songs louder than the actual characters, and they’re all happy. It’s pretty easy for Louis to picture since that has become their typical weekend night, but Louis can also see that scene taking place a week from now. He can see it in a month’s time, six month’s time, and there’s even a little something a full year out. That image is nowhere near as vivid and clear as the rest, and he’s not sure how exactly their Saturday nights will look like with Lottie off at uni and Harry in his third year of medical school, but the fact that Harry is there at all is progress.

Just knowing that being apart for these few weeks hasn’t been for nothing is worth it. He misses Harry so much and everyone else in the Tomlinson household misses him too. The older girls were smart enough to know something big happened between him and Harry. Louis has explained to them that he and Harry are trying their best to get things back to where they were so the girls don’t press much, however, the little ones sure do. Ernest and Doris have no patience for their favorite person disappearing. They have asked about Harry every single day since the fight. They just want to know where their new best friend is and why he hasn’t been around to read to them at night and make smiley face pancakes in the morning. Louis misses those things too amongst others. He misses Harry curled next to him and snoring in his sleep even though he claims it’s just heavy breathing. Louis misses waking up next to him, laughing at each other’s morning hair, and Harry’s scent mixed in with his. Most of all, Louis misses the way it feels when they kiss each other good morning.

Louis will never forget the very first time that happened; perfect, unexpected, and completely by accident on their first date; a night that lasted way longer than either of them anticipated.

****

January 24th\- One Week and One Day After Niall’s Show

“Another pint?” Louis snorts, still half amused by Harry’s recounting of the time he lost one of his eyebrows as kid playing with matches when he was specifically warned that would happen. Luckily for Harry, it eventually grew back as Harry currently has two perfect eyebrows on his face. Luckily for Louis and the rest of the world, Harry claims there is photographic evidence of this incident hidden away inside an old family album somewhere just waiting to make someone’s day. 

“Uh _,_ sure!” Harry answers with a smile, his cheeks still holding some color from telling such a story. “If _you’re_ having another that is.”

Louis definitely is. He had started drinking tonight as a way to calm his nerves after divulging things to his date that he really hadn’t meant to. Things about his life and his family just sort of spilled out. It had been so easy. All Harry had to do was ask in his easy voice with those warm green eyes of his and Louis was saying things he’s said to very few people. That conversation didn’t kill their night dead as Louis had expected. If anything, it just made him and Harry feel more comfortable around each other; more comfortable talking. Which is how they ended up cackling over singed eyebrows and finishing off their second round of beers.

“I can get them this time,” Harry offers, but Louis waves him off, already out of his seat.

“I’ll go. I don’t mind,” Louis insists. “Stella right?” he asks looking at the two empty pints next to Louis’ two Guinness.

Harry takes similar survey of their beer-splattered and chip-strewn table; evidence of a good time. “Eh... what would you suggest?” he grins, echoing his own words from just over a week ago when the last thing Louis wanted to do was sit around chatting. But, they’ve come a long way since then.

“I’ll surprise you,” Louis promises, the pit of his stomach giving a distinct little flutter as a pair of green eyes watch him leave. 

Louis tries to pay it no mind as he weaves through the pub, however he’s made aware of just how much he’s grinning once he arrives at the bar when Stan, Niall, and Lydia are all grinning back at him like fools.

For a moment the four of them just stare at each other until Lydia grows impatient with Louis’ silence.

“ _Well_?” she demands unable to contain her smile when Louis stubbornly counters with ‘ _Well what?_ ’.

“She means, things seem to be going rather well on the other end of the pub where we can’t really hear or make out much so it’s hard to gossip properly,” Stan clarifies.

A tiny but significant design detail that Louis must thank his date for later.

“Oh, come on! Tell us the good stuff or – or we’re cutting you off. No more beer,” Lydia threatens. Her smirk sinks when Louis pretends to think over the ultimatum before giving an unbothered shrug and walking behind the bar to serve himself.

“Oi!” Niall chastises him as he grabs a fresh glass pours himself some Guinness. “You’re not supposed to be working. You’re on a _date,_ remember? _”_

“Yes, I know. And this is _for_ my date,” Louis explains, grabbing the top-shelf white rum and a frosted glass to make the colorful cocktail Harry has been eyeing in other people’s hands all night.

Louis hasn’t made their raspberry mojito very many times as most of the people who wander into Blackhorse Pub are more beer focused. He does a decent job of it anyway, even going as far as putting in extra mint leaves and frozen berries to make it look particularly fun.

“ _There_ ,” Louis says, proudly grinning down at his bright pink creation.

“Someone’s really aiming to impress,” Niall teases. “So, it _is_ going well then.”

Louis does his best to ignore his friend. And his other two friends. All three of them really and their stupid grins which are back in place making it almost impossible for Louis to keep a straight face when he tells them all to fuck off.

“Ah! So, it’s going _really_ well,” Stan joins in as Louis shoves some cash into Lydia’s tip jar. He only does so because currently she happens to be the least annoying out of them all.

“I’m leaving!” Louis announces, just catching someone’s murmured, ‘ _Yeah, but probably not alone_ ’ as he’s heading back to his date. “I heard that and I’m ignoring you!” he shouts over his shoulder, but he kind of hopes his friends are right.

Harry is bent over his phone when Louis returns. He taps out a quick message to whoever he’s texting, but then places the phone down at an angle where Louis can just make out the brief conversation between him and Niall that began with ‘ _Should I go ahead and book a wedding venue now or wait till after the proposal?’_ and ended with a well-earned ‘ _Fuck. OFF,_ ’ good enough to rival Louis’.

“Good to know I’m not the only one they’re pestering the fuck out of. Remind me again why we decided to meet here?” Louis jokes, however, Harry doesn’t laugh. His attention is elsewhere, too focused on the rose-colored drink Louis sets down before him with a flourish. “For you.”

“ _Wow.”_

“I’ll admit, I rarely have to make those so please be kind. I did my best,” Louis chuckles. He only realizes afterwards when Harry’s eyes are locked on him that he may not have been talking about the drink.

Louis reclaims his seat, attempting to calm the fluttering in his stomach with a sip from his new pint. He takes it around the same time Harry tries his mojito. Louis must’ve done an alright job with it because Harry’s eyes widen and his eyebrows shoot up so fast he makes Louis snort into his beer. “What do you think?”

“I think this might best thing I’ve ever tasted and you’re pretty much stuck with me now. Congratulations.”

“Gee, thanks. I also wanted a tipsy Harold of my own. You shouldn’t have,” Louis teases back with a roll of his eyes. And to think, Louis had been so unsure about tonight. He was so late getting here after handling family stuff that he had contemplated not even showing up. He figured Harry would’ve left, especially after their week of shitty texts, but he didn’t. Harry was still here when he arrived. He was still here after he went outside to talk with Doris, he was still here after he explained why his life is so erratic, and he’s still here now grinning at Louis like he’s having the time of his life sitting across from him. This night is quickly turning into one of the best nights Louis has had in a long, long time. He kind of hopes it never ends, but of course, all good things do.

That time quickly approaches after one more round each, but when it does neither of them is particularly thrilled about it. Harry least of all when Louis checks his phone for the time and lets out a small sigh. It’s nearly midnight.

“Time to head back?” Harry asks with a sad sort of smile. Harry’s smile has changed about a million times tonight from the nervous one he wore at the beginning of their date to the drunken one he wore after his second raspberry mojito. But, this one is Louis favorite by far.

“Yeah, I probably should. It’s late.” Louis is sure his siblings are all fine. He would’ve been informed if they weren’t, but he still worries. Mostly he worries about the twins sneaking downstairs for midnight snacks while everyone else is passed out which has happened on more than one occasion.

“Me too, I guess,” Harry admits, standing up to shrug into his jacket like Louis. “Is it a long walk?”

“Eh, not too bad. Around fifteen minutes.” So long as he doesn’t make any pit stops at his favorite spot.

“W-Well, I should walk with you then. I don’t mind. Really.”

Louis grins at the offer. “I think I’ll be alright. I’ll be extra careful. Cross me heart,” he assures his date. “Anyway, I’m used to it by now.” He has to make the trip every time he has a shift here which he’s sure Harry knows. That doesn’t seem to deter him from trying to extend their night a little longer.

“I’ll be honest. if we get mugged, I’m pretty useless,” Harry laughs, “ _But_ I think I could be pretty good company on the off chance that we don’t...”

It’s impossible for Louis to not laugh picturing Harry trying to fight off a mugger in his small-heeled boots. It’s also impossible for Louis to say no to someone who’s so fucking cute when he’s trying to get something he wants.

Louis glances over at the bar and as expected Lydia, Stan, and Niall are all openly gawking at the pair of them. There’s probably a bet going on about whether they’ll leave together or separately, so Louis’ sure he makes at least one of their nights when he turns back to Harry and takes him up on the offer.

“If we see a mugger, I’m throwing one of your massive rings at them and running,” Louis warns as they head out of the pub and into the cold night air.

“Same,” Harry laughs. “Why do you think I wore them?”

H

When they left the pub together, Harry was buzzing at getting extra time with Louis before goodbye; about fifteen extra minutes to be exact. However, they’re now walking along Queen Street nowhere near the place Louis said he lives and that fifteen minutes has extended to over half an hour. Not that Harry is complaining one bit.

“Where on Earth are we going?” Harry teases when they swing yet another left onto Upper Thames. “Is this a kidnapping situation? Should I call Liam to let him know he’s going to have to pull a Liam Neeson and come find me?”

No answer. Which would be concerning if his potential kidnapper weren’t smiling from ear to ear. He’s been doing that each time Harry has tried to figure out where they’re going.

“You’re worse than the twins,” Louis snorts. “I thought you said you like walking.”

“I _do_ ,” Harry scoffs matter-of-factly. “It’s just that usually I’m a little surer about where I’m walking _to_.”

“You’ll see,” he chirps for what must be the hundredth time. “But I promise to protect you from any muggers if we see them. Just have your rings ready.”

Harry fondly rolls his eyes, not even bothering to ask questions when they hang another left into a lit alleyway that smells like the river. Harry finds that his nose was correct when they reach the end of the street and come out at the pier.

“You’re drowning me tonight, aren’t you?” Harry teases, watching Louis step toward the railing to watch the light dance off the water. Harry thinks it’s beautiful as he steps forward too. But, it still pales in comparison to the man standing next to him.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going to drown you,” Louis chuckles. “I just wanted to look at it for a second. Haven’t been able to much this week.”

“The river?” Harry frowns. He can admit it looks quite nice, especially at night, but he doesn’t know very many people who would go out of their way during the week to come admire it.

“No, the bridge,” Louis grins, pointing at the thick illuminated beams stretching over the water to connect the two ends of the city.

That’s an even more peculiar reason for Louis to want to come here considering there are several bridges along The Thames, but it’s clearly something Louis’ into. That alone piques Harry’s interest because besides Louis’ family and his three jobs he hasn’t said much about his interests.

“The bridge, huh?” Harry grins back. “What’s so special about this particular one?”

Clearly, he couldn’t have asked a better question because a few seconds later, Louis’ gushing about it like he’s just been waiting for someone to ask.

“So the first one ever in London was Richmond Bridge... Actually, no. It was Abingdon in the fifteenth century, but it was so old it had to be reconstructed. It was really well engineered though. Simply amazing for the time. It was incredible,” he explains as if he was there. “Now, this is one is called The Millennium Bridge. Obviously, it isn’t _that_ old, but it’s just as revolutionary.”

“What makes it revolutionary?”

“Well, for one it’s a suspension bridge. It’s got high tension cables that cover all 144m of the central span, so it’s span-to-dip ratio is about sixty-three to one. That’s like six times shallower than the conventional suspension bridge. I learned all about it in one of my classes, and was immediately obsessed,” he smiles. “And then of course there’s the deck which is made of aluminium _and_ stainless steel.”

“Woah. That sounds serious,” Harry chuckles.

“Shut up. It _is_. And so are the side cables because they dip _below_ the deck at the midspan; genius move by the engineers if you ask me because they’re sleek and thin and practically make the bridge look like it’s floating... Obviously, I’m a bit of a fan,” he laughs at himself.

A bit? The only person Harry knows who can talk this much and get this excited about engineering stuff is Liam.

“So, you’re a out and proud bridge nerd,” Harry teases him, letting out a squawk when Louis elbows him in the side.

“It happens to be my favorite bridge ever and it’s right here in my city. Can you blame me?”

“No. I think it’s cool you know so much.” It’s also incredibly cute. “And I can’t really judge. I’m a nerd about medical stuff. Sometimes Liam falls asleep listening to me talk about it,” he admits making Louis snort a laugh.

“What kind of stuff? Like cool x-rays and machinery or blood and guts stuff?”

“Definitely blood and guts,” Harry grins making Louis cackle even louder. “The human body is so amazing. Like yeah, when we get hurt and blood and guts and all that stuff comes out, we just grow new skin to cover it like it’s normal or something. And when we get sick, we have immune systems to fight off bad stuff. _Literally._ We each have our own personal health army that never sleeps. It’s _insane_.”

“Sounds like it,” Louis teases.

“I have so many clinic stories.” And Harry would love to stand here recounting them all, but he can do that any time. It’s nearly one in the morning. Soon, they’re going to have to say goodnight, but while they’re still here Harry wants to hear as much as Louis is willing to tell him.

“Alright, I want you top three best clinic stories. _Go_ ,” he demands, his smile turning shy when Harry asks him a question instead.

“Trust me, I could ramble on about clinic stuff any time... but, you said something about some classes earlier when you were talking about bridges?” At first, Louis looks hesitant to answer like maybe it’s another one of those topics like his family or his mum that’s usually off limits. “You tell me about becoming a bridge nerd, and I’ll tell you about the time I got to suture the tip of someone’s toe back on,” he grins. And that’s all it takes to get Louis laughing again and letting Harry in just a teeny bit more.

“Well, I told you about what happened with my mum and the cancer...” he begins. “Well, before all of that I was off at uni. Didn’t get through it, but I went for a few semesters.”

“What’d you study? Civil engineering I bet,” he guesses. Louis quickly confirms it with a proud ‘ _It was love at first bridge_ ’. “And so the geekdom began,” Harry smiles, making sure not to interrupt when he continues talking about uni wearing the brightest smile Harry’s seen from him yet. Seeing that makes it worth staying out past midnight.

L

When Louis agreed to this date, he figured he’d show up, stay for an hour or two, and then be done with it, but that is not at all what happened. One drink turned into two and then four. Goodbye turned into walking home which turned into an impromptu trip to a bridge, which turned into a lengthy conversation about uni and sutured body parts and why the hell anyone would try to chop vegetables nude in the first place. This has been the most unpredictable date Louis has ever been on, and right when he thought it was about to end for good, Harry offered to fulfil his original promise to walk him home despite the cold and despite the fact that they’re now closer to the next sunrise than the last sunset.

On an ordinary night, Louis would’ve been in bed hours ago. He’s usually exhausted before the clock strikes nine, but exhaustion has taken its time creeping up on him tonight. It’s quickly catching up to him though. It’s catching up to Harry as well based on his sleepy grin as they near Louis’ house.

They walk up the drive hand-in-hand. Louis doesn’t quite remember when that happened, but it’s kind of nice knowing Harry likes being close to him.

“This is it,” Louis announces when they come to the old brick house at the end of the street. Harry seems to like it, grinning at the bright blue window boxes his mother painted to make the place seem cheerier.

“Here I was half-expecting you to take me to another bridge,” he jokes, his smile fading and his breaths stopping completely when Louis links both of their hands and moves toward him. He’s only half-sure he isn’t delirious from sleep as he tries to interpret the anxious swooping feeling in his stomach. They’ve kissed before. In the alley the night they met, but tonight feels so different. Louis feels different but he doesn’t let that stop him from leaning into the warmth of Harry’s lips.

He tastes like the raspberries from the mojitos and as they kiss, Louis’ mouth is all cool and tingly from the mint.

When they finally pull back, Louis can feel himself grinning like an idiot, but he doesn’t feel too ridiculous because Harry is grinning hard too. “Goodnight.” Louis says it just as he’s about to turn and head up the steps to his front door, but doesn’t quite make it there. He hardly even takes a step before he’s being pulled in for a second kiss that sends his heart racing.

“Good morning,” Harry corrects him, biting down on a big dopey smile with the ‘ _Morning, H,_ ’ Louis says in return.

Louis smiles all the way up to bed and swears he can still taste raspberries the rest of the weekend.

****

Louis hadn’t known it at the time, but that good morning kiss was just the first one in a long succession of morning kisses that Louis wouldn’t trade for the world. They’ve had so many great ones like the one when Harry accidentally slept over for the first time after they fell asleep during a Lord of the Rings binge so they had to sneak him out before everyone woke up. Or about a month later when Harry slept over on purpose. They _meant_ to sneak him out the next morning but instead he ended up getting introduced to everyone in the house who decided to wake up super fucking early and have a communal hangout in the kitchen.

Louis hadn’t initially loved the way that played out. He had all intentions of keeping Harry completely secret until he was gone because their family has had enough instability. They’ve had enough people coming and going, but that morning Harry proved he might not be one of them. That morning Harry took one look at Louis and the six pairs of surprised and curious eyes on him, he introduced himself, quickly realized everyone was congregated in the kitchen because they were hungry, and he spent the next hour making smiley-faced pancakes while happily answering the ten billion questions being thrown at him.

It was so easy that Louis couldn’t believe it. Harry fit right in as if he’d always been there; as if he belonged there somehow. And although Louis expected that feeling to fade at some point, it didn’t. It just got stronger.

Louis realized just how strong a couple of months later when Harry woke up in his arms, smiled and told Louis he loves him like it was as simple as breathing. Louis froze of course. He was expecting Harry to say something along the lines of them making breakfast or having sex before they absolutely had to get up, but not that. Not love.

No one had ever said that to him before, and if they had, they hadn’t meant it. Louis could tell that Harry meant it, and it scared him. Those three words were just as scary as the realization that Louis had gotten so used to Harry being there and falling for him that he forgot not to fall too.

Louis couldn’t say it back. He was too frozen. The truth is, he still feels frozen to this day, but he’s getting there.

He knows he loves Harry because he knew that before he even started seeing Dr. Olson. He couldn’t deny loving Harry if he tried, but it’s trusting that feeling that’s the issue. It’s trusting _him_ that’s scary. There’s no guarantee that Harry will stay when so many other people have gone, but Louis hopes he will. That’s the tricky part about loving people. You never know when they might just up and leave, even if they don’t want to.

October 7th\- Session #4

“So, Louis, tell me about your week. How are things?”

It has been a little over a month since Louis started coming here. Dr. Olson has asked him that at the start of each session they’ve had together, and yet he still isn’t sure what answer she’s looking for.

“Things are great,” Louis replies on instinct which is probably why Dr. Olson’s left brow raises slightly.

“ _Great_ , huh? How so?”

Now that Louis thinks about it, he may have oversold things a bit. Ernest decided four days ago that he doesn’t like pasta with cheese in it so that was a big challenge considering the majority of their meals is some kind of pasta with cheese in it. Lottie and her boyfriend broke up and got back together for the third time, so she was in a mood most of the week. And then there was the battle with the eldest set of twins who got into their heads that they were going to some concert that ended at midnight on a school night. Louis vetoed that plan on the spot so of course Daisy and Phoebe tried to overrule him by asking their dad who also said no. It’s no surprise they were also in a mood. Honestly, they still are. Maybe a pizza and facial night will help smooth things over.

“So, maybe things were more okay,” Louis amends. “Pretty much the same really besides a few moody teenagers, but I can’t really judge since I was quite the handful at that age. I was stubborn as hell.”

“ _No_ , I’d never have guessed _,_ ” his therapist deadpans.

“Yeah, I know because I’m so _un_ stubborn now. My poor mum,” he jokes, thinking back fondly on all of her angsty teen stories about him that she’d tell to whoever would listen. 

He finds that Dr. Olson is watching him when he looks up from the faded burn mark he gave himself one night trying not to get caught smoking out of his room window. A great effort made in vain because she could smell the evidence as soon as he opened his bedroom door.

“You talk about her a lot,” Dr. Olson comments. “You must miss her a lot.”

He misses her more than words can say. “I do. She was so amazing. I mean I really was a stubborn shit so we didn’t _always_ get along, but we did for the most part,” he explains. “She was my best friend.”

“I can tell. It sounds like you two had a very good and healthy relationship with one another, and that’s great.” Dr. Olson jots that down in his file for some reason. Louis’ fond grin sags a bit when she adopts a more serious demeanor and cuts right to the chase. “You never really mention your father. Can you tell me about your relationship with him?”

Louis liked it much better when they were talking about his mum. The parent who actually gave a shit about him.

“There’s nothing to tell. He and my mum were married, then they weren’t anymore, he left, and I never saw him again.” He leaves out the part where he left the woman he claimed to love high and dry with a two-year-old son and very few options for taking care of him, but she gets the gist. “So, yeah. There’s that, though I can’t see what that has to do with anything we talk about here.”

Admittedly, Louis’ feeling a little defensive which must be obvious to his therapist who puts down her pen with that apologetic look in her eyes that says she’s about to say something he doesn’t want to hear.

“I respectfully disagree with you, Louis. I think it has a lot to do with what we talk about here. Sometimes the things we experienced in our past have a way of showing up in our present.”

“I thought we agreed to no childhood trauma talk?” he quips in an attempt to lighten the mood; distract her. Whatever he can do to change the fucking subject.

“Well, it depends. Do you consider abandonment by your father traumatic?”

“ _Abandonment_? Wow.” Louis doesn’t mean to be laugh or be rude, but honestly. Who the hell said anything about _abandonment_? His selfish father fucking _ran_ and everyone is better for it. That’s called a blessing in disguise, but Dr. Olson keeps pushing so Louis tells her what she wants to hear along with the fucking truth. That, _yes,_ his father did walk out on him and his mum. And, _yes,_ he used to be really fucking angry about it because it was shitty and it sucked, but that was a long, long time ago. He has way more important things to worry about these days.

“And you don’t think that has anything to do with Harry and your fear that he’ll leave?” Dr. Olson asks, her face neutral when Louis gives a final and resounding ‘ _No_ ’ in response. She must sense that she has struck a nerve because they sit in silence for nearly a minute after that with Louis practically staring daggers at the woman he had come to really like until about eight minutes ago.

Talking about his exes wasn’t exactly a painless process, especially that first time, but it did eventually get easier. With Dr. Olson’s help, he feels so much better about it all. He’s less closed off about his past and his exes, and even Harry whom he can almost picture in his future when he lets himself. But _this_? His dad?

“It seems you’re a bit more comfortable talking about you mother, so maybe we should start there instead,” Dr. Olson suggests and Louis can feel the fury building up inside his chest because sure, his father leaving could very well be connected to how he views things, but his mother was the one parent he had who got it right.

“We’re not starting with my mum or talking about her at all because _she_ didn’t fucking _abandon_ anyone,” Louis spits, his chest seizing up like giant hand is gripped around it when Dr. Olson replies with a quiet ‘ _She did. It just wasn’t by choice’._

It feels like all the air in Louis’ lungs has been punched out. He’s in such disbelief that Dr. Olson would say something like that he can’t even feel his anger anymore. He’s just numb.

“She died from _cancer_ ,” Louis says once he’s able to pull air into his lungs again. “She didn’t just wake up one day and decide she didn’t want to be a parent anymore.”

“You’re right. I didn’t know her, but I’m sure she wanted nothing more than to be here with you and your siblings for as long as possible. Dying was not her fault, Louis, but she did leave. You experienced a loss when she went and the hurt and all the anger that comes from that can be difficult to work through, but it _is_ also okay to feel it.”

Louis’ angry alright. He’s so furious right now his hands are shaking but its only because his therapist just implied that he doesn’t trust his boyfriend because he’s been too busy being angry at a dead woman. 

It’s the most ludicrous thing he’s ever heard and yet it takes root somewhere between Louis storming out of his therapy session and Dr. Olson beckoning him to come back. He ignores her insinuation until he can’t ignore it anymore. It’s like a beetle burrowing deeper and deeper into his brain until it’s all he can think about.

Getting to this point in his therapy had felt so good. It had helped so much that Louis wanted to talk about his progress with more than just Dr. Olson. For the first time ever, the person Louis wanted to share his innermost thoughts and feelings with was Harry; his boyfriend of _ten_ months now, if they’re even still counting. Not that it matters now with Louis’ thoughts so jumbled and angry and his eyes so filled with tears he can hardly see where he’s walking.

He ends up at the bridge looking out over the railing despite having no real destination in mind when he ran. He just needed somewhere to go; somewhere to escape. He needed someplace to think himself through the idea that he could be angry at the person he loved so much it nearly fucking killed him when she went. Even just the possibility of Dr. Olson being right makes him sick to his stomach.

He doesn’t even try to talk himself out of grabbing the emergency cigarette and mini lighter hidden in his wallet. At this point it’s the only thing that will calm him down but even that doesn’t work. He’s still shaking with tremors that started at his hands and spread until his shoulders are shaking with the tears he can no longer hold back. The last time he cried this hard was the day his mum died. The memory is so fresh Louis can almost feel the same roughness in his throat after leaving her hospital room and coming here of all places. He has no idea why the hell he likes this stupid bridge because most of his memories of it are sad. He came here when he found out his mother was sick, when he realized she wasn’t going to get better, when he dropped out of uni, and every time he’s just needed one moment to his fucking self.

His siblings mean everything to him. He loves them more than words can say and as selfish as it sounds, sometimes he does imagine a life where things didn’t turn out the way they did. He imagines a universe where he didn’t need to stop his entire life, and the thought always makes him feel like shit. What happened wasn’t just unfair to Louis, but to each of his siblings who deserve more than just him. He _is_ angry that they don’t get a mother anymore. He _is_ pissed off that things are so much harder than they should be. He’s mad at how things ended up for all of them as a result of their mother dying. And he supposes, even though it’s completely fucked up and his mother had no say in dying, he’s even a little mad at her. Mostly because he wishes she were still here.

The realization brings on a flood of tears so thick that Louis’ cigarette ends up falling out of his hand and into the river below, and he doesn’t even care. Smoking wasn’t doing anything to make him feel better anyway, but he knows the one thing that will.

He reaches into his pocket again, but instead of his wallet, this time he grabs his phone. His vision is too clouded and blurry to text anything comprehensible, so he calls the number instead. It rings a few times before Harry finally picks up, and when he does, Louis doesn’t even have to say anything for him to know immediately that something is wrong.

“Lou? Babe, where are you? Are you at home? Are you alright?”

Louis manages to assure his boyfriend he’s okay and that he’s at the bridge though his voice breaks on every other syllable. Harry doesn’t ask any more questions after that. He probably knows Louis wouldn’t be able to answer very well anyway from how upset he is, but what he does do is promise Louis he’ll be there in fifteen minutes, and although they’re not really saying anything, Harry stays on the phone with him the whole way there.

H

His heart feels like it’s in his throat as he fights through traffic to get to where Louis is. His throat has felt tight that way since the moment he answered his phone and heard a shaky exhale that let him know right away that Louis needs him, break or no break.

“I’m nearly there now,” Harry says into the phone he never hung up so Louis wouldn’t be alone in the meantime. Louis replies with a soft but relieved ‘okay’ just as Harry’s coming up on a parking space close enough to the pier that he can get out of his car and walk the rest of the way.

He starts down a familiar alleyway that smells of the river and instantly reminds him of Louis because the two of them walk this street together often; the very first time almost a year ago during their first date. Harry could find his way here blindfolded, jogging now as he nears the end of the alley and comes out at the water. 

He expects to see his boyfriend right away, but the walkway is crowded with people today. Harry scans the crowd while moving towards the bridge, hoping to find his boyfriend looking out over the water. Eventually, Harry does locate him because even in a crowd he’d know that jean jacket and mess of dark caramel hair. Just seeing him and having confirmation that he’s okay melts away all the worry and fear he was feeling before.

Harry had estimated it would take around fifteen minutes for him to get here, however a quick look at the running time on their call reveals it only took him twelve and a half. “I’m here,” he says into the phone however he suspects it is the sound of his voice coming from right behind Louis that makes him whip around to see him.

“Hey, love,” he whispers as they both hang up.

Louis is as beautiful as ever even with his face all pink and puffy from the tears steadily slipping down his cheeks. He’s visibly shaken by something and sad, but Harry can tell that there’s something else fueling Louis’ tears right now that looks a lot like anger. Harry has no idea what might’ve happened today that made Louis so upset, but he assumes it has something to do with the therapy session he usually has during this time. He isn’t sure what was said there, and for right now it doesn’t matter because it’s not Harry’s job to show up and grill him with questions. He just needs to be here for the person he loves, so that’s exactly what he does, opening his arms wide enough for his boyfriend to crash into them and let out a sob so strangled he must’ve been holding it in this whole time.

There’s no telling how long they stand there as Louis lets out everything that had built up inside him. He cries and cries and Harry holds him tight the entire time. Eventually, the sun starts to sink behind the skyline and the water starts reflecting the deep orange and purple clouds overhead. Louis’ tears dry up little by little until he’s able to take a deep breath and scrub at his blue eyes, crystal clear and gorgeous after the tidal wave they just endured. It’s difficult to tell if Louis is really alright once he composes himself enough to watch the sunset.

Harry stands next to him and doesn’t say a word. He just lets the silence between them sit because if he has learned anything about Louis in the ten months they’ve been together it’s that often, all he needs is time.

“You were working at the clinic,” he comments, probably realizing Harry is wearing hospital scrubs now that he isn’t so distracted. “Sorry you had to leave and rush all the way over here.”

“Don’t be. The clinic isn’t going anywhere. And anyway, you’re much more important.” His supervisor didn’t even try to stop him from leaving when she saw how worried Harry was. He was so afraid that something terrible had happened, and maybe it did. Louis still hasn’t said, but just as Harry guessed, eventually enough time passes and Louis’ ready to talk.

“...I’ve been so angry this whole time,” he confesses to Harry and the water. “I didn’t even realize it. I guess I didn’t want to admit it.”

Harry is curious to know who Louis is referring to, but he knows it’s better at this point to be patient rather than push.

“I’ve been so mad at her,” he explains, and at once Harry knows exactly who Louis means. He can tell just from the tender quality in his voice that’s only ever there when he speaks of Johanna. “I wasn’t mad at her for dying of course, because we all do that at some point,” he clarifies as a few more tears roll down his cheeks. “I just- I didn’t think it’d be so soon, you know? None of us did, and we didn’t think we’d actually have to say goodbye. We weren’t ready,” he admits while angrily wiping at his wet cheeks. “I wasn’t ready.”

It’s the most Harry has ever heard Louis talk about his grief. He talks about his mother all the time and he encourages his siblings to do the same, but the painful aftermath of her death? It’s like its own separate little compartment that Louis and his siblings locked away the day she died and they haven’t opened it since.

Harry isn’t sure what to say because nothing can take away that pain. No one could ever be ready to lose someone they love. He can’t even imagine. “I’m so sorry, Lou. Truly,” he says taking Louis’ hand in his and giving it a tight squeeze.

“Yeah, but I think I’m the one who should be saying sorry,” Louis mutters before elaborating. “I stormed out of my session with Dr. Olson...” he reveals though Harry figured that was the case since he escaped here. “Which flowers say ‘sorry I made a scene and fucked off, hope we can still be friends?’” Harry snorts at his joke making Louis crack a grin for the first time too. “Or, maybe I should go for a good old fashioned grovel instead.”

“I think you can avoid the flowers and the groveling,” he smiles. “Dr. Olson’s been doing this a long time. I’m sure she knows you didn’t mean any of it, love.” In her line of work, Harry’s sure she has seen a lot worse than someone storming out of her office because they’ve been upset.

“I’m still sorry though,” Louis says quietly, now facing Harry. “I didn’t mean to call you and scare you like that,” he says guiltily meeting Harry’s eyes. “I know we’re technically still on a break so you don’t owe me anything. I just didn’t know who else to call.”

“You called the right person,” Harry assures his boyfriend, pressing a sure kiss to his temple. “No apologies necessary.” Louis looks relieved to hear that; emboldened even as he bites down on a guilty yet mischievous grin.

“So, since I’m being so honest today...” he begins with a wince that almost looks genuine. “You know that secret ‘only for emergencies’ cigarette I usually keep in my wallet?”

Not-so-secret is more like it because Louis’ been holding onto that thing for months just in case. Harry assumes today his planning came in handy.

“Its mysteriously disappeared hasn’t it?” Harry grins, cackling when his boyfriend confirms his suspicions by launching into an explanation about how this is really all Dr. Olson’s fault for making him face suppressed emotional trauma on a bloody Monday of all days.

They stay there until the sky is completely dark and the moon is hanging over them. They just talk, but unlike most evenings spent together, their conversation is pretty one-sided. That’s okay though, because it gives Louis the space to say anything he wants to, which happens to be quite a lot.

It’s such a change hearing Louis speak so openly and honestly about his past. There’s so much that Harry’s never heard about the experiences that made him who he is, and now Harry feels as though he’s learning everything all at once. The thing that’s even more amazing than Louis suddenly sharing so much with him, is how comfortable and sure he seems doing so. Louis is the same exact person he was a month ago. It’s just that now, he isn’t hiding the pieces of himself that are most vulnerable. Harry can’t help but feel immensely proud of him because it’s almost like he’s meeting Louis for the first time all over again and somehow, he’s even more amazing. 

Eventually, they both realize how late it has gotten. It becomes even clearer once Louis’ phone begins vibrating with texts from his siblings wondering when he’ll be home. Louis texts back and lets them know he’ll be there soon, and Harry since Harry drove, he offers to take him.

Like the bridge, Harry could find his way to Louis’ house blindfolded. Up until the last month, Harry spent more time there than at his own place. It just feels more like home to him, but he suspects that would be true anywhere as long as Louis was with him.

This break has been one of the hardest things Harry has ever had to do, but he’s so glad that he did. All Harry has ever wanted is for Louis to feel comfortable saying the things he feels, and because of this break and Dr. Olson, he’s beginning to. Without this month apart, Louis would have probably never told Harry half of the things he did today. He wouldn’t have trusted Harry with the story about his dad leaving or all the emotions surrounding his mother’s death that he’s only just beginning to shift through. Most of all, without giving Louis the space he needed, they wouldn’t be holding hands right now across the middle console, closer than they’ve been in weeks. Just feeling Louis reach for his hand has made Harry’s world feel right again in a way that it hasn’t in a while.

Harry drove as slow as he could without pissing off the other people on the road, but his car still rolls to a stop in Louis’ drive too soon. He has missed Louis so much that he’s now having a little trouble letting him go again.

Every window of the house is lit up and from all the silhouettes against the curtains, it looks like every one of his siblings is downstairs waiting for their big brother to come home and start dinner. Harry is grinning picturing all the madness and the fun mealtimes bring in the Tomlinson household when Louis suddenly turns to him.

“Hope you’re hungry,” he grins making Harry’s heart skip a beat in his chest.

“M-Me?” he breathes, almost certain he heard that wrong.

“Well, yeah you,” Louis chuckles, “We’re having lasagna and since it’s been a while since their last attempt, I promised the girls they could try baking again sometime this week. I’m guessing they’re going to want to take me up on it sooner rather than later and we both know you’re always much better at not destroying the kitchen than me,” he laughs, only realizing a few seconds later that their usual dinner routine sounds a bit odd given the circumstances. “Um... un-unless of course, you think that wouldn’t be a good idea because of the, uh, break that we’re still very much on and that I completely forgot about, so. Just ignore all that,” he says, awkwardly clearing his throat and tensing his hand still linked with Harry’s.

Harry hadn’t expected to get invited to dinner. He hadn’t really expected anything when he offered to drive Louis home, but now that they’re here it seems silly to leave and pretend like this afternoon didn’t happen; like there hasn’t been a noticeable shift between them.

It seems Harry wasn’t the only one reveling in all the normalcy of this afternoon and just how easily they fell into it. Deep down, Harry had feared the time apart from one another might do irrevocable damage to their relationship. However, tonight just proves the break only made them stronger; so strong that perhaps they can do away with their break completely and start fresh.

The chance for a new beginning sounds like just the thing they need. It just feels right to Harry, and so he stops Louis from unlinking their hands and holds on even tighter. Harry doesn’t want to leave yet and it’s clear that Louis is on the same page as him as his blue eyes search Harry’s green ones for signs that this is some kind of a joke. He finds none, releasing a shaky breath when Harry puts the car in park and cuts the engine. It’s a huge step, but it’s one that Harry is ready to take if Louis is.

Louis looks close to tears again when they grin at one another and things seem to fall back into place.

“So, how should we destroy the kitchen this time? Cookies or brownies?” he teases. “Or we could really switch things up and try blowing up a whole cake since we missed our ten-month a couple of days ago.” He hopes he’s not the only one who was still counting.

Louis doesn’t even bother giving an answer before leaning over the middle console and pulling Harry into a kiss that’s way overdue and feels a little foreign after so long apart, but it’s nothing that time together can’t fix. And thankfully, they seem to have a lot of that ahead of them; possibly a whole lifetime if they can get it right this time around.

“Happy ten-month,” Harry whispers. It may seem like a silly milestone in a relationship but getting to this point wasn’t the easiest thing for them. They made it anyway though and that’s worth celebrating.

“Here’s to the next ten,” Louis smiles without fear, making Harry’s heart race because hearing Louis talk of their future is another huge first.

“To the next ten.”


	5. Chapter 5

______ ______

_Part Two_

“ _I hope you’re the end of my story_

_I hope you’re as far as it goes_

_I hope you’re the last word I ever utter_

_It’s never your time to go._ ”

L

_Louis’ boss at the restaurant announces the new menu they’ll be adopting and all the extra time the kitchen staff will have to put in to learn and perfect it, Louis knows he’s fucked. First of all, it took Louis forever just to learn their old menu. Second, Louis’ schedule is set up in a way that leaves very little wiggle room so staying a few hours after his shift is going to be a challenge, especially since Doris and Ernest have to be picked up at that time. He needs the job though._

_At home that night, he sits at the kitchen table poring over the family calendar for the next week trying to squeeze extra hours out of a couple of days. Harry finds him there, just fresh from upstairs where the twins roped him into playing zoo with all their stuffed animals. He kisses Louis hello and notices how stressed he seems. After he lets Louis explain (complain) about his extra busy upcoming week, Harry reveals that his week will be pretty calm because he’s just finished a set of exams and clinic is trying out a new schedule rotation so he’s available to help any way he can. Having an extra adult around to help out sounds like a dream. It’s just the sort of life vest Louis needs to keep himself from drowning during this next week and although he hates asking for help and having to shirk off his responsibilities to his siblings, Harry just offered to pick up some of the slack without hesitation._

_Louis should’ve just said no._

_It’s Wednesday afternoon and Louis is at the restaurant, but instead of leaving at three o’clock to pick up the twins, he stays and learns to carve a radish into a rose for garnish while Harry picks them up instead. The only people who ever pick them up are Louis and their father, who’s working out of town this week, so Louis can’t lie and say he’s not a little nervous. The twins love Harry though and Harry loves them right back, so things will probably be just fine._

_Louis gets a ten-minute break from destroying fruit and vegetables just after four. He uses the time to check his phone and make sure everything went okay with Harry and the twins, his heart dropping to his stomach when he sees several missed calls and worried texts from their school wondering if everything is alright because the twins are still there. That was over an hour ago._

_He can hardly breathe from the panic gripping his chest as he dials the school repeatedly with no answer. Where the hell are they?_

_He rips off his apron and exits the restaurant kitchen without so much as a word. Out on the pavement, his stomach is sick with every step he takes as his brain runs through a million different scenarios involving his siblings. In each one something terrible has happened like they got on a random bus trying to find their way home and now they’re lost somewhere in the city or some stranger saw them waiting outside of the school alone and talked them into leaving with them so they’re god knows where. And no matter how scary the horrific things are that Louis’ imagining, he can’t help but feel total rage for the person who was supposed to pick them up. The person who has asked to be trusted again and again, and when he finally got the chance he blew it, and all because Louis let his guard down once._

_He gets to the school in record time and sees no sign of his brother and sister. His heart is about to beat out of his chest as he sprints for the school’s office and finds no one there either. Eventually he finds a woman who works there who explains that he just missed his siblings who were picked up about five minutes ago._

_Louis doesn’t even thank the woman for the information before sprinting out of the school again and down the street that leads home hoping to catch just a glimpse of his brother and sister. He spots them walking on either side of Harry who turns at the sound of Louis’ voice screaming for them to stop. He’s wearing a big smile until he realizes he’s the only one doing so and instantly his expression turns to one of confusion that deepens when Louis finally reaches him and shoves him hard in the chest._

_“Lou- What the-?”_

_“Where the hell were you?! Answer me!” he demands, so angry he’s shaking as he snatches his siblings’ hands from Harry’s grip. He looks so broken by the action and the fury being directed at him which only pisses Louis off more because he has no right to be upset. “You were supposed to be there to get them and you fucking left them there, you fucking arsehole!”_

_Harry swallows hard, shaking his head at the accusation as all the people around them stop to watch their fight unfold._

_“Lou, please. Calm down. This was clearly a miscommunication,” he tries only for Louis to call bullshit on it._

_He always knew something like this would happen. He knew Harry would make him regret ever meeting him, and here they are right in the thick of it._

_“You promised me- no. You swore you would pick them up today and you didn’t! What about that sounds like a fucking miscommunication to you?!”_

_“The part where you told me to pick them up tomorrow and not today?” Harry counters making Louis scoff. “You said to pick them up on Thursday and today is Wednesday, Louis. You didn’t tell me you’d be working late today.”_

_That can’t be right. Louis told him Wednesday. He’s sure of it, however the longer he thinks it over, the less sure he becomes because he can only actually remember saying anything about tomorrow, not today. And if that is the case, Louis just called his boyfriend a liar and an arsehole when he did nothing wrong. If anything, he saved the day, because he got there to pick up the twins faster than him when he realized there must have been a mistake; that Louis made a mistake._

_“There’s a text to prove it if you don’t believe me,” Harry says in a hard, emotionless tone that makes Louis sick to his stomach. He looks around at their audience, down at Doris and Ernest who are scared and confused, and he realizes just how badly he fucked up._

_“I- I believe you, Haz,” he tries, but it’s too late._

_“Clearly you don’t,” Harry says with a pained expression that hurts Louis’ chest. “It’s been almost nine months, Lou, and half the time you treat me like some stranger you hardly know.”_

_If Louis’ feelings have ever come off that way, it wasn’t intentional. He never meant to make Harry feel like he’s not important to him. “That- That’s not true.”_

_“But it is,” he argues. “You don’t trust me and this isn’t even the first time.”_

_“I- I do trust you.”_

_“Not with anything that actually matters to you. Not with anything that’s important. You hardly ever let me in. You look at me sometimes and it feels like you’re just waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Again, Louis never meant to make him feel that way. “You don’t trust me. You never have, and if we can’t even have that together then what do we have?”_

_Louis doesn’t know. He cares about Harry so fucking much. This is the most he has ever trusted or let someone in and it turns out he’s shit at it. “I’m sorry,” Louis says reaching for his hand, but Harry pulls it away before he can make contact, cutting Louis’ heart in half. “Haz- Harry, please,” he begs, feeling like his chest is caving in as Harry drops his gaze with a heavy sigh and Louis braces himself for the goodbye._

Louis wakes up breathless and with the same tightness in his chest he felt the day he nearly destroyed everything. His heart’s absolutely racing after such a vivid dream, but it slows at the sight of his boyfriend lying next to him.

He’s still asleep like everyone else must be because it’s dead silent in the house save for Harry’s deep even breaths. It’s a relief to see him so relaxed after the shattered expression he wore in Louis’ dream; the moment he realized he was playing a losing game in their relationship. That moment haunts Louis even though it happened nearly two months ago.

Dr. Olson says the dreams are just his own guilt manifesting at a time when he’s least capable of ignoring it. He has no idea why his brain keeps forcing him to relive something that he and Harry are steadily moving on from, but it’s not exactly a bad thing. It’s a constant reminder of what he nearly lost which just makes Louis even more appreciative of what he has; a boyfriend who really loves him and Louis’ family so he has no intention of leaving. Harry has forgiven him for thinking the opposite and for trying to push him away. They’ve talked a lot about how fights happen and how they don’t require anything but honest apologies. That’s true, but it won’t stop Louis from trying to make it up to Harry in other ways. His boyfriend isn’t one to hold a grudge, but spoiling him a bit and making him feel extra special to be sure won’t hurt.

Harry isn’t lying too far away when Louis slides himself close enough to run his fingers through his sleep-mussed hair and drop a few kisses to his shoulder blades. The press of his lips is so gentle, but it was enough to pull Harry out of his sleep.

“Well, g’morning. _Early_ morning,” he croaks into his pillow, breathing a chuckle when he’s manhandled into lying on his back.

His smile and the way it lights up his entire face is one of Louis’ favorite things about him. He missed it so much when Harry wasn’t around that he now takes every opportunity he can to admire it. That includes his lips that Louis swears couldn’t be any more perfect.

Harry sighs into their kiss, grinning from ear to ear when Louis pulls back to give the rest of his face that same treatment, particularly his nose because it always makes him laugh.

“You know, what if noses don’t even _like_ being kissed? Ever think of that?” he asks, his green eyes going a couple of shades darker when Louis moves down his body to drop kisses in places that definitely enjoy it.

Harry isn’t laughing anymore as Louis kisses his way down his neck and chest and then the sensitive spot just below his navel. He’s only wearing a pair of joggers which Louis slowly removes leaving him completely bare. Harry’s already hard as Louis kisses down the insides of his thighs leaving the occasional bite mark in his wake. His dark green eyes flutter closed when Louis sinks his lips around him to start bringing him off.

They’ve done this here enough that Harry is able to stay relatively quiet though he’s flushed pink from neck down with the effort of not waking everyone up. It’s probably for the best if they don’t want to be interrupted, but it’s less fun not being able to hear all the noises that Harry’s biting back. All it takes is Louis replacing his mouth with his hand so that his tongue is free to lick at his opening and Harry’s whimpering up at the ceiling.

When Louis woke his boyfriend up, he had only intended to have a little fun getting him off before breakfast, but Harry clearly has other plans as he wordlessly digs their lube out of the bedside table and tosses it in his direction. Louis gets the message loud and clear, hurriedly coating his fingers until they’re able to slide into Harry with ease. It’s only a couple of minutes before Louis is pulling off his own joggers and slicking himself up.

He had wanted Harry to be more vocal and he gets his wish as he pushes into him, the both of them moaning loud enough that they’re almost certain to have been heard by someone. That means they don’t have very long before their privacy goes from barely there to non-existent. It’s a race against time and Louis’ family that he and Harry win when Harry comes with a bitten-off whine that leaves his bottom lip cherry red. Louis is right there with him, leaning down to bury his face in the crook of his boyfriend’s neck as he fills him up.

Louis hardly moves as he comes down, only realizing how sweaty he is when Harry starts gently scratching through his hair.

Their peaceful moment together doesn’t last as long as Louis would’ve liked. They never do to due to things like work and classes and hungry five-year-olds, but that doesn’t make being wrapped up together feel any less wonderful. Slowly, the rest of the house stirs as Louis expected, and within minutes overlapping voices and tiny feet can be heard passing Louis’ bedroom and heading downstairs where they know bacon and smiley-face pancakes are on the menu like every other Sunday morning.

“ _You_ woke them up, you know that, right?” Louis teases, mustering enough energy to roll onto his side of the bed and locate his joggers.

“Um, _you_ woke _me_ up, remember?” Harry snorts. “Them being up this early is entirely _your_ fault.” Louis can’t really disagree there. Eventually Louis finds his joggers and the t-shirt he took off before bed last night, but he’s stopped from getting dressed by his boyfriend taking his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. Harry doesn’t let go, grinning knowingly as he searches Louis’ eyes. “I’m not complaining at all about my amazing sunrise wake up call,” he begins gently, “But, you usually sleep later on Sundays. Is everything okay?”

Louis’ first instinct is to say yes, which is true, but it isn’t the whole truth. These days, he’s working on giving people whole truths about what he’s feeling so he decides to come clean. Besides, there’s no hiding from Harry anyway who’s so attuned to Louis that he can instantly sense when something is off with him.

“I guess I had a not-so-great dream...” Louis admits with a shrug.

Harry’s brow furrows with concern after hearing that. “The fight again?” he asks and Louis nods in answer. “Want to talk about it? I don’t mind,” he offers, but Louis shakes his head. They’ve talked about Louis’ guilt a few times and he has talked about it with Dr. Olson as well so at this point, the only person blaming Louis for what happened is Louis. Talking won’t fix it. It’s a forgiveness he has to allow himself.

“Thanks, but I’m okay,” Louis assures him. “I’ll _be_ okay... I appreciate you checking in though.”

“Of course, babe. And I appreciate morning orgasms,” he grins. “I just don’t want you to give them to try and even the score or something because there is no score. You don’t owe me anything.” That’s nice to hear, though Louis will probably never stop trying to make up for the awful things he did and said that day to cause their month-long break. And it’s not like Louis is torturing himself or Harry by getting him off more than usual.

“Oi, morning orgasms aren’t always _jus_ t about the fight, you know?” he grins back. “Sometimes I simply want to have sex with my super-hot boyfriend.” Today it just so happened to be a bit of both.

Harry fondly rolls his eyes at that but smiles when he notices something about what Louis just said. “Boyfriend, huh? That sounds mighty serious,” he teases. 

Harry has been his boyfriend pretty much since day one and he has been amazing at it. Louis just didn’t know how to accept that then the way he can now with all the trust he’s been working on building up. “You’ll find I’m mighty serious about lots of things these days.”

“Oh?” Harry snorts. “Like what?”

“Helping everyone hide your body if we don’t get some smiley faces on some pancakes soon,” he quips.

Louis doesn’t even fight it when he suddenly tackled onto the mattress for his sass and tickled until he can’t fucking breathe.

It’s so nice having things back to normal. Or normal by their definition at least.

October 27th\- Session #7

“So, Louis, how are you?” Dr. Olson asks as per usual, except this time there’s no hesitation in Louis’ reply.

“I’m feeling good; really good. Happy.”

Dr. Olson looks pleased to hear that. Even more pleased to see a genuine smile on Louis’ face. The two of them had a rough couple of sessions after that discussion about his parents. They picked back up with an apology from Louis for storming out of her office and an apology from her for maybe pushing Louis too much too soon. Since then they’ve discussed other hard topics like grief and healthy ways to work through it rather than closing himself off and ignoring it the way Louis had been doing. Through those conversations, they both came to the conclusion that Louis’ schedule and responsibilities have made it more difficult for him to cope this past year and a half without his mum. Today, they’re supposed to be brainstorming ways to fix that.

“I’m glad to hear you’re feeling good these days. And happy,” Dr. Olson grins back at him. “Any specific reasons?” Louis can think of a few.

“My siblings are doing very well. Limbs are still attached and all that.”

“Thank God for small miracles,” Dr. Olson jokes.

“And, uh... then of course there’s Harry and him being back with us.” Louis tries his best to keep a straight face about it, but he just ends up grinning like an idiot anyway.

“And I suspect things are going well there too. Limbs still attached and all?”

“Can’t complain,” Louis smiles, watching his therapist grin as she scribbles a few things into his file.

“So, everyone in your life is great; your sisters, brother, boyfriend...” she lists off and Louis nods to confirm. “That’s good to hear. The happiness of our loved ones is important, but I asked why you’re feeling happy and you told me about other people. I think we should talk about that.”

Louis isn’t surprised. She wants to talk about everything and plus she warned him last session that this was coming.

“About what makes _me_ happy?” he asks, unsure of what to even say to that because he has no idea.

“Yes. You take care of your siblings so you’re a parent and a big brother to them. You’re a support system for them all and a significant other so you have responsibility there too. That’s all great, but I want to know what you do purely for yourself.”

The truth is, he doesn’t do much for himself. Ever. He’s got too many other people to worry about and as long as they’re happy, he’s happy. Clearly, Dr. Olson knows this, her eyes going soft and kind as Louis struggles to come up with something to tell her.

“Louis, do you remember our conversation last session about grieving and coping and how important it is to allow yourself the space to do both?” Louis nods, not really sure how that conversation has anything to do with this one, but he trusts Dr. Olson to make the connection. “Well, taking care of yourself is equally important to your mental health. It may even be the most important thing you can do because in order for others to be a priority in our lives, we have to be a priority first,” she explains. “Sometimes taking care of ourselves requires us to be a little bit selfish, and that’s okay.”

Makes sense to Louis. Harry is a great example of that because apart from being a great friend, boyfriend, and pancake chef, he’s also not afraid to take time to focus on school or himself whenever he’s feeling overwhelmed. He often takes off to spend an afternoon at the gym or walking through a park alone. He listens to music a lot when he’s feeling a bit down and when that doesn’t help, he has his own therapist he goes to talk to.

“If you could do something selfish for yourself, what would it be? What do you really enjoy? What’s something you’re passionate about that’s just yours?” his therapist asks.

Louis has to really think about it, but eventually his gaze falls on the bridge painting hanging on his right. It immediately makes him think of his favorite, The Millennium Bridge, and how all he ever wants to do is pore over the original blueprints for it and maybe one day design something even cooler himself. He’d gotten close to making his dream a reality with the civil engineering course he was enrolled in, but that was short-lived.

“I liked uni a lot when I was there.” Which is interesting because he hated school up until that point. The problem was that nothing ever interested him the way bridge engineering does. “I left when my mum got sick, so it’s been a while, but yeah,” he shrugs. “It was hard, but amazing. It made me pretty happy, I guess, and I loved it.”

“Sounds like you still do,” Dr. Olson points out. “Do you ever think about resuming your studies?”

Usually only on really shitty days at work while he reminisces about what could have been, but that’s such a dangerous train of thought that he doesn’t let it get too far.

“I mean, of course I think about it from time to time. People have also encouraged me to try and go back because it was so important to me, but.”

“But what?” Dr. Olson pushes.

“...But the reality is I have six other people to take care of and three jobs that pay a lot more than four years of uni.”

“Three and a half years of uni,” he’s corrected as Dr. Olson flips through his file to an earlier session when he must’ve divulged such information. “That’s what you’d have left if you resumed.”

“Okay...” Louis shrugs. “So I only have three and a half years left. Not that it matters because of the things I just mentio-”

“Well, there is help for tuition, you know... books and other expenses too. You could even keep working and finish your courses at half-pace,” she says with a little shrug of her own.

Louis guesses he knew all of that through working at the university he attended. He gives students that information all the time, but he’s never really considered it for himself. He figured it was a lost cause.

“Even if I could get by financially, uni isn’t some hobby I can just take up on a whim. It’s a lot of hard work and time that I don’t have. That’s why I had to quit in the first place,” he reminds his therapist who seems to have forgotten that tiny but crucial detail.

“Yes, Louis, but that was when you were doing this alone. You’re not anymore,” Dr. Olson counters. “From what you’ve told me, Harry has been there for you and has supported you whole-heartedly in whatever you pursue. Do you really think uni would be any different?”

Louis can’t read Harry’s mind so doesn’t have an answer to that, but he suspects the answer is no.

At work the next day, Louis manages to get there nine minutes early which is a record for him. Holly is shocked to say the least, greeting him with a spare coffee as per usual.

“Thanks,” Louis tells her, anxiously chewing at his bottom lip as he plucks up the courage to ask for thing he got here so early to ask. “Erm, Holly? Can I ask a favor?” he says just as she’s settling into her seat for the long day ahead. “I know you have a million and one things to do today and so do I. But, um, before we get to all that, would you mind looking up the outstanding credit hours for a withdrawn student?”

Her brow furrows at such an odd request, but then her eyes narrow suspiciously at Louis.

“A withdrawn student, huh? Who?”

“...Me?” he winces hoping Holly won’t ask too many questions because he doesn’t really have answers. Mostly, he’s just curious, but Holly looks so proud of him already.

“My goodness. Louis, are- are you thinking of finishing your degree?” she gasps.

Louis just shrugs, still very unsure of what the hell he’s doing or if going back to school is even a possibility for him, but it’s nice weighing out his options and knowing he has support either way.

“ _When I was young, my heart was always on the run_

_But you make lovin' fun_

_I never knew it could be.”_

H

Harry turns his phone over on the coffee table and finds a couple of messages there. One is from Niall letting him know he’s already at the pub after just finishing a shift. The other is from Liam who’s finishing a project on campus but promises to be as quick as humanly possible so he doesn’t miss Halloween lad’s night.

He’s just texting his friends back when he hears the sound of the shower stopping overhead. It’s followed by footsteps moving from the bathroom to the top of the stairs where Harry can just make out his boyfriend’s bare feet and ankles poking out from the towel wrapped around his waist.

“I’m almost ready!” he relays down the stairs “Just need another five minutes!”

“They’re not even there yet. We’ve got plenty of time,” Harry shouts back, grinning when Louis rapidly amends his original statement.

“Er...okay, ten minutes then!” he shouts before skipping off to his bedroom to finish getting dressed.

Shouting isn’t uncommon in the Tomlinson household. When everyone is here together, it’s like a madhouse which Harry absolutely loves being part of because it’s so different from his own family. Granted, things aren’t nearly as chaotic tonight with it being just him and Louis in the house. Doris and Ernest are out trick-or-treating with their father and the older girls are all at a scary movie marathon with their father meaning they’re all gone for the next twenty-four hours. It’s a rare occasion so he and Louis are taking full advantage of it by going out with their friends. As soon as Louis chooses an outfit worthy of his big night of freedom.

Harry stands up from the sofa to stretch his legs while he waits. The living room is an absolute disaster from everyone congregating here earlier to accessorize their Halloween costumes. Harry has been so busy he didn’t have time to plan a costume, so he picks a random sparkly tiara from the pile and puts it on. There’s nothing else here that goes with it, so Harry keeps walking, ending up at the bookshelf that has always intrigued Harry because there aren’t very many books on it. There are mostly photos; all of them of one person who shares Ernest and Doris’ smile, the girls’ kind eyes, and Louis’ deep chestnut-colored hair.

Their mother was lovely and from everything Harry has heard, her beauty wasn’t just on the surface. He wishes he could’ve met her. He’d love to tell her what a great job she did raising all of her children, but especially her eldest. Harry didn’t know her, but he’s sure that all the good in Louis reflects the very best of her and she’d be proud. Harry’s sure she is proud wherever she is.

A few of the shelves have other things and trinkets like a jewelry box so old it must’ve belonged to their late grandmother or the military medal that Louis says belonged to his grandfather. The bottom shelf is where the books live; most of them uni textbooks about bridges and engineering. They’re a bit dusty because they haven’t been opened in a while, but the fact that they’re being preserved here of all other places in the house says their owner cared a great deal about them. Louis still does honestly, so if Liam is able to make it tonight, he and Louis will have a lot to talk about as per usual.

Harry is just flipping through _The History of Suspension_ and other wonders when he feels a pair of arms encircle his waist from behind. He turns around, closing the book when he sees Louis dressed in one of his usual hoodie/jogger combos and a devil horn headband he must’ve picked up from the costume pile too.

“Bit of light reading about...concrete anchorage mounts?” he teases when he opens the book to where Harry’s thumb is keeping the place.

“I had to do something to occupy myself until you got here,” Harry grins. “You look great by the way. Nice horns.”

“Thanks, grew ‘em myself. Nice tiara.”

“You mean nice tiara, _your highness_. And thanks. I just had it polished by the royal tiara maker.” His boyfriend splutters a laugh before leaning in to kiss him like it’s been twenty years since they’ve seen each other rather than just twenty minutes. Harry’s stomach is swarmed with butterflies when Louis pulls back to look at him with that contented, happy smile he’s been wearing the past few weeks. It’s nice.

“Ready to go get shitfaced in our half-arsed Halloween costumes with our best mates?” Louis asks.

Hanging out with their friends is always fun when they have the time do that sort of thing, but mostly Harry looks forward to doing so with Louis. “Lead the way,” Harry says, snorting when he’s corrected with a ‘ _You mean lead the way, Prince of Darkness_ ’.

When they arrive, Niall is already there waiting with a few pints to start them all off. Liam finally escapes the engineering lab to join them somewhere around round three, so he spends the first few minutes of lad’s night just trying to catch up. Eventually he’s just as tipsy as everyone else and therefore able to focus less on keeping up with Harry, Louis, and Niall, and more on chatting.

What starts out as a group conversation about their weeks and the new sushi place in Southward that Niall swears by, quickly turns to just Louis and Liam geeking out about Southwark’s Shard skyscraper which apparently is a modern marvel because of its revolutionary pyramidal design. From there, the conversation just gets higher over Niall and Harry’s heads, so they respectfully bow out and discuss music instead.

Harry is listening to Niall go on and on about how great Vampire Weekend’s new album is, but he’s also listening in on the chat about uni that Liam and Louis have quietly transitioned to.

Apparently, the thermal hydrolysis project Liam’s just submitted for one of his classes sounds so cool that Louis tells him about the suspension bridge he’s been mentally designing for the past year. Harry knows less than nothing about bridges so he has no idea what Louis’ talking about so animatedly, but it sounds brilliant. Clearly, Liam thinks so too otherwise he wouldn’t be encouraging Louis to sit down and really design it since he’s obviously been thinking it through for a while.

“Yeah, I don’t know, mate,” Louis chuckles into his beer. “Designs are pretty cool to get down ideas, but other than that, they’re pretty useless.”

“Well, the only way to fix that is to make use of them then,” Liam smiles. “If you’re half as good as you think you are, which, by the way, me and everyone here _knows_ you are, then any engineering program in the country would kill to have you.”

Like bridges, Harry doesn’t know much about the standards of engineering programs, but he does know his boyfriend is talented and passionate about what he loves so he completely agrees.

“You could always look into your old program,” Liam continues. “Or, you could even look into mine. The civil engineering department is small so they’re always looking to bring in more talent. I’m sure your credits would transfer right over,” Liam encourages him. “I can put you in contact with my engineering director if you’re interested. He’d be happy to talk to you.”

If it really would be as easy as Liam says, Harry can’t think of very many reasons why Louis _shouldn’t_ go for it. He deserves the chance to go back to something he loves so much. Maybe Liam is giving him the gentle push he needs to do it.

“Thanks, mate. I’ll think about it,” Louis assures him. He glances over at Harry sitting next to him and finds him already staring. He playfully kicks Harry’s foot beneath their table making them grin at one another the way they have been all evening. Like it’s just the two of them in this pub. It’s a grin that says they’re both having a great time being out with their friends, however they’re looking forward to going home without them even more. Louis’ devil horns don’t exactly help the situation.

They claim to be tired when they leave not even an hour later, and it’s a complete lie. Harry’s sure their friends know they’re full of shit since they were so eager to close out their tabs and say goodbye. They also probably noticed the private grins they’ve been giving each other all night and returning to their table all riled up after every joint trip to the bathroom. Admittedly, they’ve been pretty fucking obnoxious for lad’s night, but in their defense, there’s a big, kid-less house waiting for them back home and they plan to take full advantage of it.

Their relationship hasn’t always been so light and impulsive, but it is fun exploring this new side of it. The beginning of their relationship was so different from how it is now. It was always great and the connection between them was always there, but things just felt so fragile; like they were walking on eggshells that could shatter at any moment. Eventually that did happen, but Harry now realizes why things always felt so on edge. A lot of it had to do with Louis viewing their relationship as temporary and Harry knowing they have the potential to be together for the rest of their lives if they want to. He’s not sure if their perspectives are still so opposite, but it no longer feels like that’s true. They’re communicating better than ever and _trusting_ better ever. He and Louis have been on the same page about a lot of things lately, and right now, that includes getting them home as fast as possible.

They burst into the house without fear of waking anyone up and then race each other up the stairs exactly the way they tell the twins not to do every day. Any time they’re alone at Louis’ they spend the entire time doing things they probably shouldn’t like eating junk from straight from the pantry, walking around naked, or playing made-up-on-the-spot drinking games with impossible rules into early morning. It’s a reckless side to them that Harry loves so much just like now with the two of them laughing into each other’s mouths as they drunkenly navigate around clothes and shoes they didn’t bother to pick up after getting ready for tonight. More clothes just get added to the heap as they strip each other bare and fall into bed with the joint goal of having sex as loud as possible simply because they can.

Afterwards, they’re both so exhausted that Harry uses the last of his energy to curl up in Louis’ arms and listen to his heart racing beneath his ear. As he gradually comes down from his high, his heartbeat slows while Harry’s heartbeat follows suit.

Louis’ fingers feel so good where they’re carding through his hair and each time Louis sighs above him Harry’s stomach flutters because he just seems so at ease; like nothing in the world is holding him down. Over the past couple of months, Louis has been able to unshoulder a lot of the weight he’d been carrying. When he started that process, he was at the end of a dark tunnel. It took a lot for him to make it as far as he’s gotten; far enough to see there’s a light at the end. He hasn’t made it all the way out yet of course. There’s always going to be more tunnel to walk through because that’s true for everyone. Life is full of darkness, but at least the worst is behind Louis now. And what’s ahead is sure to be brighter than ever.

Eventually, Harry sits up with his hair probably going a million different directions and Louis grins up at his own handiwork.

“What?” Louis chuckles when he realizes he’s been stared at. “Is this your way of hinting that my hair is even worse than yours?” His hair is a fucking mess right now. It’s kind of reminiscent of a hedgehog’s, but that’s not why Harry is staring.

“Did you have fun tonight?” Harry asks after a while and Louis gives him a big crinkle-eyed smile in response.

“Of course. And last I checked, we’re still having fun so the night’s not over yet,” he smirks, sitting up too and kissing Harry’s shoulder. “How about you, love? Did you have a good night?”

“I did,” Harry nods, certain his night couldn’t have gone any better. “It was good seeing Ni and Li. We haven’t done that in a while.”

“Getting smashed and talking complete bullshit for hours on end?” Louis smirks. “Yeah, it’s been a while.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say it was _all_ bullshit,” he begins. “I heard some pretty interesting conversation going on between you and Li about really nerdy engineering stuff... and _uni_ for example,” he prompts making Louis bite down on a grin.

“Heard that, did you?”

“Eavesdropped, more like,” Harry jokes, giving his boyfriend a playful nudge in the side. “Well? What did you think about all that? I mean, do you _want_ to try and go back? Are you interested in that at all?”

Harry is trying his best to sound neutral about it, but he’s sure his own excitement about it is obvious. Uni or no uni, this is Louis’ life and Louis’ decision. Harry’s only role is to be as supportive as possible no matter what he chooses. However, knowing how much it would mean for Louis to be able to pick up where he left off before his mum died makes Harry slightly biased. He just wants Louis to be happy.

Louis makes him suffer for an answer, but eventually he caves and puts Harry out of his misery.

“Well, I think Liam’s heart was definitely in the right place. He obviously believes in me and just wants what’s best for me, but I don’t know,” he sighs regrettably, and Harry’s heart sinks a bit. “It just sucks to have to disappoint him because I can’t really apply to his engineering program when I’ve already applied for readmission to mine...”

Harry nods understandably, already gearing up to give the I-support-you-no-matter-what speech when he notices the smirk on Louis’ face and realizes what Harry _thought_ he heard and what Louis actually said are completely different things.

“W-Wait a second,” Harry grins. “...Did you just say you _applied_ to your program, as in _past_ tense? When?!”

“A few days ago?” his boyfriend reveals with a sheepish smile. “I nearly missed the deadline so Holly helped me. _But_ , I’ve only just done it so there’s nothing to get excited about yet. They’ll contact me in a few days so I was waiting to tell everyone when it was official. _If_ they even let me back in that is.”

That’s _totally_ something to get excited about.

“Babe, wha-? _Of course_ they’re letting you back in! They’d be idiots _not_ to!” Harry exclaims smiling so big his face hurts. He can’t believe Louis was able to keep so quiet about something so huge. “Louis, I’m so fucking proud of you! This is amazing!”

Louis cackles into the big, dramatic kiss he’s pulled into. He manages to escape Harry’s grip after a while, pulling back to look at him and make Harry’s already full heart overflow when he tells Harry something he never has before.

“I love you so much,” he whispers for the first time ever and it’s just as wonderful of a feeling as Harry always knew it would be. Honestly, it’s even better. “...I know it’s a little late since you said it ages ago... You scared the absolute shit out of me,” he reveals with a dark laugh.

Harry didn’t mean to scare him. He was just so in love he couldn’t _not_ say how he felt. And although it has taken a little longer for Louis to voice his feelings, hearing him do so now when he’s so confident and sure about what he feels makes the wait so worth it.

“Sorry it took me so long to get here, love,” Louis apologizes, and Harry tells him not to because not once did he ever doubt how they feel about one another.

“Louis, I love you too,” he whispers, bringing their lips together for an even deeper kiss. It ends up being interrupted when Harry remembers the initial reason they were celebrating. “Okay, I’m glad we’re so in love with each other, but you’re going back to uni to become an engineer!” he beams wondering if Louis is buzzing as much about it as him. “Babe, this is major! How do you feel?”

“Honestly? Kind of scared shitless,” he admits with a sigh. “Nervous I won’t be able to handle it any better now than I could before.”

It’s a legitimate fear especially since Louis will have so much more on his plate than he did back when his only responsibility was school. It won’t be easy juggling his uni life with his family and work life, but it’s not impossible. Harry’s schedule can be adjusted so that he’s here more. Or Harry could officially move in which would eliminate the need for at least one of Louis’ side jobs if not two. He practically lives here anyway and then Louis could go to school and work in the same place. It would take a bit of planning and coordination, but Louis would have the help and support he needs this time which will make all the difference in the world.

“You’re not in this alone, babe. I’m going to be right here with you,” Harry says, pressing a kiss to the back of Louis’ hand in a promise that he intends to keep. “I’ll be here for you always.”

Just hearing those words seems to take a mountain of worry off Louis’ shoulders who’s now smiling like he’s the happiest man on Earth again. “Have I told you how much I love you?” he teases.

“Mmm. You may have mentioned it once or twice tonight,” Harry jokes. Louis could mention it a zillion more times if he wanted to and Harry would never tire of hearing it. “Have I mentioned how amazing you are and how insanely proud of you I am? And not just for uni. I mean everything you’ve accomplished recently. You’re incredible, love.” Their relationship had all but imploded and now here they are better and stronger than ever.

Harry was hopeful when Louis started seeing Dr. Olson, but he ever in a million years expected this. For Louis to grant himself some closure on the dark parts of his past and start looking ahead to his bright future; _their_ future if things continue this way. Louis wants to keep seeing Dr. Olson. He’s even mentioned his siblings possibly going to see her too.

“Well, I didn’t always _feel_ incredible the past couple of months. Most of the time it sucked,” Louis laughs, “But, I am glad I went through it because I know it’s good for me. I had gotten it into my head that I could never have someone like you and actually get to keep them.”

“You can’t get rid of me. I’m non-refundable,” Harry says making Louis fondly roll his eyes.

“Well, now I’m wondering why the hell I ever wanted to keep you in the first place,” he teases, changing his tune after Harry’s offended ‘ _Hey_ ’. “ _Now_ I know having you in my life makes it better,” he says kissing Harry’s jaw. “You make _me_ better, and imagining my future is impossible if you’re not there too so I _have_ to keep you. It’s the rules.”

That’s something the two of them can completely agree on because Harry feels the same way. Keeping Louis forever is his only option since he has no plans to let him go.


	6. Chapter 6

_“In spite of ourselves we’ll end up sitting on a rainbow_

_Against all odds,_

_Honey we’re the big door-prize”_

L

_Three and a Half Years Later_

“Come on, come on. Let me through,” Louis mutters as his car inches along behind several others trying to make it through the fresh green light the heavens have just bestowed upon them. “Come on. Don’t change. Don’t change,” he chants, leaning closer towards the steering wheel as if his weight and proximity to it will aid him in crossing this intersection or delay the timer of the traffic light. By some miracle, it actually works allowing Louis to arrive at Harry’s hospital like he technically should have six and a half minutes ago, but who’s counting.

He had so many errands to run that it’s a wonder he’s not running even further behind schedule. He had to swing by Niall’s to pick up the nice pair of trousers he’s letting Louis borrow for today, drop off Doris and Ernest at their dad’s, and his eldest sisters all demanded he go get a bloody haircut and a shave so he doesn’t look like he’s just rolled out of bed when he goes to get his diploma. That last one was rough because Louis had been growing his scruff and hair for months. He was giving Harry and his curls a run for their money, but he must admit he feels pretty damn good being so clean cut and he looks even better.

Louis’ in a bit of a rush but forces himself to walk through the hospital unit he gets to the wing his boyfriend works on, finding him in the triage area going over a chart with another junior doctor, Elizabeth, who smiles when she sees Louis approaching.

Harry smiles just as big when he sees Louis has finally arrived. He hands off the chart to his colleague and goes behind the triage desk, emerging a few seconds later with a giant bouquet of red roses.

“CONGRATULATIONS!” he shouts as he places Louis’ surprise flowers in his hands because he’s a big kid who’s terrible at keeping secrets. Louis loves that about him most of all.

“Thanks, but aren’t these supposed to be for _after_ I graduate?” he snorts.

“Maybe I saw these in the gift shop downstairs and I wanted to give them to you now. And who says I only got you _one_ gift?” he teases pressing a quick kiss to Louis’ lips.

“Well, I guess this bouquet could always use a friend,” Louis jokes. “You almost ready to go, love? I’ve got to be there soon and I didn’t get a chance to change clothes between the salon and coming here.”

“Yeah, I’m ready” he says just as he’s paged overhead. “Er- _Almost_ ,” he amends. “I’ll be right back.” He dips behind the desk again and comes back out holding his usual work bag in addition to the duffel bag that presumably has his outfit for Louis’ graduation ceremony and his celebration dinner afterwards where everyone will meet up including Dr. Olson.

“Here, I’ll hold them,” Louis offers, reaching out to take the bags so Harry’s not running around the hospital wing with them in tow, but Harry’s hand stays firmly attached to the handgrips.

“Er- That’s okay. I’ve got it, babe,” he smiles as he’s paged by someone for a second time. Louis takes the opportunity to yank the bags away from his boyfriend anyway.

“No, _I’ve_ got it, babe. Now go save lives. And be quick about it,” Louis grins.

“I’m sure it’s just paperwork or a call,” he argues, fondly rolling his eyes before taking off at a jog to do whatever he’s needed for. “By the way, you look _incredible_!” he shouts over his shoulder.

Louis’ left standing there holding all his boyfriend’s stuff which starts vibrating. It’s his phone which sounds like it’s coming from the duffel, so Louis places the bag down and to dig it out. He’s sure it’s one of their friends or family members who have gotten to the venue early and wants to ask Harry where they’re supposed to sit, but Louis never finds out who it is or what they wanted because instead of Harry’s phone, his hand closes around a small jewelry box.

He should answer the phone, but he can’t even focus enough to keep looking for it. Louis knows one-hundred percent that he should not open the box... But, he can’t help it, glancing around him to make sure there’s no sign of Harry as he takes a peek inside of it and his heart thuds to a complete stop.

From the size of the box, he figured it was probably a ring, but he didn’t expect it to be so beautiful with its little silver flowers intricately carved into its narrow band to accent the row of diamonds on the front. He can’t really make out the underside of the ring that has something engraved on it, but he sees fragments of script that looks like word _‘forever’._

Louis slams the box shut reminding himself to take a breath for the first time in nearly a full. minute. His heart is absolutely pounding as he places his engagement ring back in his boyfriend’s bag; his future _husband’s_ bag just as he turns the corner and smiles unaware that he’s just taken what’s sure to be one of the biggest days of Louis’ life that was only made possible because of Harry, and made it even more unforgettable.

The idea that Harry’s going to propose to him today is so fucking wild to think about. Harry’s going to ask him to spend the rest of their lives together _; forever_ , as his rings says. And as terrifying as that sounds, Louis can’t help but smile because he’s not afraid even though there was once a time he would’ve been. When Louis thinks of the future, the image of him marrying his best friend and person he trusts more than anybody in this world is crystal clear. He sees them on their wedding day and when all his siblings are so big that they miss having kids around the house, so they decide to have some of their own. He sees them on their tenth anniversary and their thirtieth, and when they’re so old that sitting on a park bench reading together feels like a holiday. No matter how far ahead Louis think, he can picture them and it’s exciting to know that’s the kind of life that awaits them. He can’t wait to get started.

When Harry makes it back to him, he tries his best to keep a neutral face and not ruin the one surprise Harry has had the willpower to actually keep secret for however long he’s been planning this day.

“Ready!” Harry announces, immediately reaching for the duffel he was being so weirdly and understandably protective over.

Louis wants this day to be everything Harry imagined so he doesn’t say anything about the ring. However, he can’t stop himself from pressing up on his toes to kiss the known amazing person who has always promised to be there for Louis, and he meant it. That’s more than Louis could’ve ever hoped to have. It’s everything.

The End.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to the wonderful Lynda and Tabby for reading through this as I write it!  
> Hope you've enjoyed! I haven't had the time to write very much this year, but it's so great to be back :)
> 
>   
> [ fic post](https://all-these-larrythings.tumblr.com/private/189821611161/tumblr_q2y70qeSAc1s4ttet) <3


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